In Case of Emergency
by lilyevansJan30
Summary: Harry and Ginny thought they were doing the right thing when they broke up, but what happens when dark forces seem to be conspiring to both keep them together - and kill them?
1. Reconnecting

A/N: This story is the subject of more comments and requests to repost than all of my other work put together; so here you all go. :). It's going to be a slow process; I'm cutting and pasting from epub (yes, I know I could download but there are reasons I'm not), and I'm going to editing as I go along, primarily to fix some rather glaring continuity errors (Fred will be alive the entire time now). Please be patient with me; I'm also trying to write my other stories too.

Most importantly, since I have changed my user name, I suspect there are people who can no longer find this story. If any of you participate on Reddit or any other discussion of HP fan fiction and feel charitable, you can mention my new username (lilyevansJan30).

Thank you, and enjoy!

" Reconnecting"

Harry grinned as he walked out of his bedroom. Ron and Seamus were still sitting much as he had left them, staring intently at each other from across a small table on which there was a bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses. The two had been trying for at least half an hour to use non-verbal magic to fill the other's glass, which would force him to drink. Harry didn't know if it was the several shots each had consumed before starting the game or that Ron and Seamus were merely terrible at nonverbal spells, but so far, there seemed to be considerably more whisky puddled on the table than had made it into either of their glasses.

"You owe me a new bottle," he said idly before walking into the kitchen for his own drink.

"Dean's on his way," called Neville from his seat on the couch, "And then we can go – everyone else is meeting us at the pub."

There was a cheer from the living room and Harry heard Seamus laughing. "Ah, I play to lose, anyway," he said as he downed the shot Ron had finally managed to tip into his glass.

Harry was looking forward to the night out with his friends – various blokes from Hogwarts and newer work acquaintances as well. Harry was planning to meet a couple of fellow Auror trainees at the new pub in Diagon Alley, and he'd heard that George had tracked down Oliver Wood and a few of his teammates as well. It promised to be a fun night.

An hour later, Harry was relaxed and having a great time. He was sitting with a group of friends laughing hysterically at yet another story of Seamus' (all of which seemed to involve multiple women called Colleen and piles of Leprechaun gold), when Neville suddenly got a funny look on his face and then glanced at Harry with a worried expression. Harry looked in the direction Neville's eyes traveled, but couldn't figure out the cause of his distress. A large, rather raucous group of witches had just come into the pub, and Harry wondered if Neville was nervous about trying to talk to one of them; Neville tended to get shy and quiet around women. Harry had tried to build up Neville's confidence before, reminding him that he was a war hero, after all, and that witches really fell for that sort of thing. It never worked that well; Neville invariably pointed out that Harry never showed any interest in meeting new witches at all, so his own status as Defeater of Voldemort was rather a moot point there.

A second later, Harry saw the probable cause of Neville's discomfort. Ginny, standing with a group of her Harpies teammates, all of them laughing with some of Harry's fellow Aurors. Neville obviously thought there would be tension.

Harry smiled at his friend as he got up from the table. "It's okay, Neville."

Neville still looked concerned. "Are you sure? I mean, look at what . . ."

"Yes, I'm sure," said Harry firmly. "Ginny and I . . . well, I think we're both okay." He looked over to the group. Ginny was talking with two women Harry recognized as her fellow Chasers and two brand-new Aurors Harry himself had been training that morning. One of them leaned closer and put his hand on Ginny's arm as if he was asking her a question, but she just shook her head, smiling, and then excused herself.

The image of a small crystal phial flashed through Harry's head and he nodded to himself before walking over to intercept Ginny as she walked to the bar.

As if feeling his presence, she turned around as he approached, momentary surprise retreating quickly and her face lighting up in a genuine smile.

"Harry! I was wondering if you were here – I saw Fred and George abusing Ron on my way in."

"As long as it involves someone else paying for his drinks, I don't think Ron's going to complain," laughed Harry.

Ginny grinned back. "Too true. So, how's the life of an Auror, these days?"

Harry paused for a moment, then shrugged. "Busy, as always," he finally said. "There seems to be an increase in Dark activity lately, and we don't know where it's coming from."

Ginny nodded. "I've been hearing rumors."

Harry wasn't surprised. Some of the suspected Dark activity seemed to have a Quidditch link, but no one could figure out exactly what was going on. He wondered briefly if she'd seen anything suspicious at practice or games, but didn't want to alarm her; Ginny took her role on the Harpies very seriously and she didn't need the distraction.

"And how's the team? You looked spectacular playing against Puddlemere last week. Oliver didn't know what hit him."

Ginny looked surprised. "You saw the game?"

Harry hesitated, wondering how much to reveal. "It was sort of work related," he explained.

"Ahhh. Well, that makes sense. Life of a busy Auror."

Harry grinned at her. "And life of a busy Quidditch star. I'm surprised Gwenog let you all off of practice so early."

Ginny grinned back. "She heard there would be lots of young, hot Aurors here."

Harry groaned. "All of whom better keep it in their pants, not to mention their wits about them if they want to be alert enough to survive the surprise training session we're going to have tomorrow. Cloudy heads get people killed." He looked over to where the Aurors Ginny had been talking to were to make sure they were still standing. The Harpies' raucous behavior was rather infamous among many young men, and the two newest trainees were already looking kind of glazed. "Two late for those two, I think," he muttered.

"Oh, I think they're just having fun," Ginny said lightly. "Gwenog won't let things get too out of hand."

That statement didn't jibe with what Harry knew about the Harpies' captain, but he didn't say anything. Ginny would know, after all.

"Well, maybe I'll see you again soon," he said. "We've been investigating a lot of different angles to the case."

"That would be nice," Ginny said. "I'd like that."

Harry touched her arm briefly before walking back to his table. Neville gave him a look as he sat down, but Harry merely shook his head at him. He felt . . . fine. Ginny was happy, and things with the team were obviously going well. And they could have a pleasant conversation with each other and talk about seeing each other again without feeling uncomfortable. Yes, it was all very good.

Ginny watched Harry walk away and sit back down with Neville and some of the other Aurors. She hadn't missed how focused he'd become when she'd asked about work; things were obviously very busy, and not just with paper pushing and minor infractions. The rumors she'd heard hinted of bigger things, and Gwenog had asked that security around their practice facilities be increased after they'd all noticed what seemed to be groups of young men watching as the team came and went. And these men did not act like usual Harpies fans.

It was good that Harry was so happy; she could see him at the table, laughing now with Ron, who had weaved his way over, purple steam coming out of his ears. It made her glad to know he was doing so well at work, it was what he had wanted for so long. Her thoughts of Harry were content, as they were supposed to be.

For a brief moment, Ginny felt a flash of . . . something, but it was gone before she could identify what the feeling was. She paused for a moment, then shook her head to herself. There wouldn't be anything else, she had made sure of that.

Harry's eye caught hers and he waved. Ginny waved back, and then went back to talk with her teammates.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

The next morning's surprise training was as exhausting as Harry had suspected it would be, but at least he was there as a more senior Auror and not one of the trainees. Even though he was just starting his third year on the force, his opportunity to skip some of the basic training (and the general lack of manpower after the War) meant that Harry was treated as "experienced" (which of course, he was), and allowed to take on a more mentoring role at some of these early morning line-ups. Harry had left the pub after midnight the night before and most of the first-years were still going strong with a bunch of the Harpies. Ginny hadn't been among them, Harry noted as he left to Apparate home.

He grinned as one of the trainees, quite green in the face, stumbled out of the room where they were practicing annoyance hexes to run to the loo. He looked over at the young man's partner, a rather small girl whose delicate appearance belied a witty sense of humor and deadly accuracy with her spells.

"Hey Bindi, was that a nausea hex or is Gavin just still really hung over from last night?"

Bindi smiled and blew on the end of her wand. She was Muggleborn, and Harry recognized the reference to gunslingers from the old American West movies that played on late night television.

"Good for you. But when he gets back, move onto to something a bit less . . . uncomfortable. I need him on two feet to get his own practice in."

"Sure thing, Harry." She smirked. "Being on two feet will be a new thing for Gavin, though. From what I hear, he wasn't vertical for too long last night . . . and neither was one of those Harpy Chasers."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And which Chaser was that?" he asked casually.

Bindi shrugged. "The short blonde one, I think."

"Hmm. Well, I'll have a talk with him. Don't want him working his way through the team or anything."

"Potter!" Kingsley Shacklebolt was at the door to the training room. "I need to talk to you. You and . . ." his eyes scanned the room and finally settled on another Auror who was several years ahead of Harry . "Dirksen. Both of you, my office, now." He scanned the room again, looking over the trainees. "And bring a couple of your best students too. We've got new intelligence about the Quidditch situation."

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny huffed out another breath of air as she contemplated the next set of steps. This was one of Gwenog's favorite training activities; having the entire team – regular players and reserves – run up and down all the steps in their main stadium. It built stamina and character, she said, and made them all do it at least once a week. She didn't complain the way some of her teammates did. For one, Gwenog herself ran right along with them; usually beating most of them. And Ginny couldn't deny that all the off-broom training had made her that much stronger – and better – when she was flying. Especially in the ten months since she and Harry had decided to end things. She spent a lot more time working out and practicing, these days. More than even Gwenog expected them to, actually.

She was sweating and her legs burned, but in a good way. Glancing back, she couldn't help but feel sympathy for her teammate Leandra Crete. The blonde Chaser had not gotten back to the flat she and Ginny shared with several other players until close to morning, and now she was dragging.

Ginny shook her head to herself as she started up the next flight of stairs. She didn't quite understand the attraction such one-night stands had for some of her teammates. Not that Ginny didn't enjoy going out and having fun – being a Harpy practically demanded it sometimes. But she preferred dancing and joking around with friends to trying to conquer a new bloke each night; anything beyond mild flirting with any of the hoards of men that seemed to hang around the team just didn't hold any interest for her. It wasn't a big deal; several of her other teammates felt the same way. It was the actions of those like Leandra, however, who had given the Harpies the reputation of total party girls, a different hook up every night.

The sound of a whistle brought Ginny out of her thoughts. Gwenog was calling them all down to talk before they started their in-air drills. Ginny hopped down the stairs, neatly leaping over Leandra, who had finally reached the top and was now laying down, groaning slightly at the thought of having to descend.

"Better get your arse down there," she said lightly to her flatmate. "You don't want Gwenog coming up here to get you." Leandra was new to the team and she wasn't yet aware of their captain's policy of looking the other way with respect to a player's off-work activities as long as it never spilled over into "team time."

Leandra hauled herself to her feet. "I'm never doing that again," she muttered to Ginny as they began walking slowly down. "I'll swear on an entire bottle of Firewhisky."

Ginny snorted. She'd heard that before. Every time someone new joined the team, actually.

"But what about you?" Leandra asked, giving Ginny an openly curious look. "Wasn't that Harry Potter you were talking to? He's adorable."

"He is," Ginny agreed. "And we used to go out, a while ago. But not anymore."

"When did you date? How long? Why did you break up?" Leandra was full of questions and Ginny answered her automatically, increasing her speed down the stairs as she spoke.

"We dated a bit at Hogwarts and then after the War for about a year. We were young – too young, I think. Being an Auror takes a lot of time, and I didn't want . . . I mean . . . it wasn't fair to keep . . . it was just too hard." Ginny hated having to explain what had happened between her and Harry. No one could really understand. "It's just easier, this way."

Leandra looked thoughtful. "And what did he think?" she asked quietly.

Thankfully, they reached the bottom of the stairs then and Ginny was saved from answering.

Gwenog went over the various formations she wanted them to practice up in the air – some old, and a couple new moves as well. But before she sent them to get their brooms, she lifted her hands in caution.

"Don't be alarmed if you see extra security around here for the next few days. The Aurors sent over a few men" - she grimaced at the fact that no female Aurors had been assigned - "to keep an eye on things. They seem to think there might be more to those blokes that were hanging around last week."

"Ginny rolled her eyes as a couple of the players clapped their hands together and murmured excitedly about the thought of having Aurors watch them play. She grabbed her broom and shot into the air as quickly as she could.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry and Cabot Dirksen, along with two trainees, Apparated to the outside of the Harpies vast training complex immediately after their meeting with Kingsley. Their intelligence seemed to point to suspicious activity surrounding several different Quidditch teams, but only the Harpies were at their own facility today. They were met by one of the trainers who began explaining the layout of the fields and practice pitches and buildings as they walked towards the Harpies main stadium where their home games were played. Harry pulled out a pair of Muggle-style binoculars (modified quite a bit by magic, of course), and began scanning the area.

As he panned across the fields, his attention was captured by the small figures running up and down the stadium steps. It took no more than a minute for him to locate Ginny; her hair always gave her away even if he had not been so familiar with her stature and the way she moved. He wasn't surprised to see how fluidly she ran up and down the steps, hardly seeming winded; from her first day on the team, she had taken her position seriously, pushing herself in her training, her practices, and the way she poured over her playbooks. New players were always hazed a bit by the more experienced members and Ginny hadn't wanted to give them any extra ammunition.

Watching her, Harry couldn't help but grin. She had certainly been able to prove herself quickly; there was no question now that she was the best Chaser on the team. He'd even started to hear rumblings of her making the National Squad for England in a year or two. Being a professional Quidditch player was definitely the right thing for Ginny.

He focused his attention back to the trainer as he invited them into one of the offices to review a map of the facility and surrounding area. The players seemed to be finished with their stair-climbing and were making their way down to where the imposing figure of Gwenog Jones waited, a clipboard in her hands.

Ten minutes later, as the trainer was rolling up his map and Harry and Cabot were discussing the best way to survey the area, an enormous explosion rent the air, which was almost immediately filled with thick purplish smoke. It spread out much more quickly than ordinary smoke might, obscuring the entire area like a blanket.

Harry pulled his wand and ran outside, listening to the screams coming from the ground . . . and the air.

Ginny just barely kept herself from slamming into the earth as she dropped as quickly as she could to get away from the cloud of smoke that seemed to be everywhere. As it was, she rolled off her broom awkwardly and ended up on the ground, trying to catch her breath and clear her head.

What the hell just happened? She coughed, and her lungs burned, but it didn't seem too bad. She'd had worse. Like when parts of Hogwarts had been set on fire during the Final Battle. She could still remember running around the charred grounds looking for the injured, wondering where Harry had gone, while Voldemort's voice rang over them from the Forest.

This smoke was thicker, but less acrid. It had a sickly sweet smell that made her dizzy, but it was better now that she was not trying to keep herself on her broom. She looked around, trying to figure out where her teammates were; she had been practicing breakaways when the explosion happened, and in her confusion, she had apparently overflown the pitch where they were flying and landed at the edge of their smaller scrimmage field, near the invisible barrier that separated their fields from the surrounding forests. She rolled onto her hands and knees, preparing to stand.

"Ginny?"

She looked up, and was transported nearly two years into the past. There was Harry, his face a familiar mix of tense alertness and worry, striding towards her through the smoke, wand out, as if preparing again for battle.

Just for a minute, she was sixteen again, and he was pulling off his Invisibility Cloak and walking resolutely towards the center of the Great Hall to face Tom Riddle. And she was watching from the side, suddenly knowing that they were all safe, amazed he was alive, in love, and thrilled that her future was going to come true, after all. How young and naïve she had been.

But as she watched Harry's face relax a fraction as he recognized that she was not seriously hurt, she couldn't help but think about what Leandra had said: Harry was adorable. Still. Even more, maybe. Messy black hair, broad shoulders, his face – still with the boyish innocence that was made all the more endearing by the hard edge of manhood etched over the top. And the green eyes – of course, the eyes. They were focused intently as he walked, darting from side to side, looking for more danger. He was in his element, Ginny could see it, and knowing how right it was for him now made the few memories she kept close easy to think about.

They had been so wonderfully, sloppily, even nauseatingly in love that Ginny couldn't help but smile. It was nice to be able to appreciate the teenagers they had been and know that the adults they had become had done something right.

"Ginny." Harry reached her, and bent down. "Can you stand? That muddling smoke is disorienting." He took her arm and helped her into a sitting position. "Maybe you'd better stay here until it's better." He plopped onto the grass next to her and peered at her eyes, as if to make sure she was okay.

"What happened? Who was it? And don't you need to go, I don't know, chase them or something?"

Harry shook his head. "They Disapparated, of course. Before we even got close. One of your trainers was still showing us around the complex when the firework carrying the potion exploded." He looked at Ginny. "One of Fred and George's. Whoever they are, they're smart; those fireworks are pretty the only ones sold anymore, so they're impossible to trace. And the muddling draught can be made from ordinary ingredients from anyone with a NEWT in potions." He sighed. "I'm sorry we didn't catch them."

"You will, next time," said Ginny. "If I know you, you won't rest until you do."

Harry grimaced. "Talk about not resting. How many flights of stairs did Gwenog make you run today?

Ginny shook her head. "Not enough." She smirked at him. "But I had it a lot easier than one of my teammates, and one of your trainees, apparently."

Harry groaned. "The blonde Chaser, right?"

Ginny nodded. "Leandra. Who swears she will never do that, again. Until the next night out, of course."

Harry shook his head. "Crazy Harpies. We need to warn our trainees about you the first day."

Ginny smacked him indignantly. "Only some of us," she protested. "Not me."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Not you? Not ever?"

"Never," said Ginny resolutely. "What would be the point? I mean, after . . ." She broke off. She and Harry seemed to be in a good place with each other and bringing up the past was not the way to keep them there. Harry was quiet for a moment. Then he smirked.

"Yeah, one-night stands are best wasted on the young and stupid, right?"

"Not when we were young." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and Ginny cursed inwardly. _Hadn't she just told herself not to bring up the past?_

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. "So basically, we got it backwards, you mean. Did the serious thing when we should have been fooling around and now . . .?" He shrugged and opened his hands as if to ask a question. "Should we be fooling around instead of being so . . . celibate?"

Ginny mentally noted that Harry had confirmed the lack of action for himself as well. She couldn't decide if was joking with her about the rest, though. His tone was light but she knew him well enough to hear something else in his words, and his eyes were less guarded than usual. She decided to joke back. "You mean, I should go fool around with one of your trainees? Sort of an initiation?"

Harry matched her mood and waggled his eyebrows at her. "You do have a reputation as a Harpy to uphold, don't you?" His smile faltered for the briefest instant before he continued in the same teasing voice. "Actually though, wouldn't you prefer to hook up with someone with a bit more experience? So you'd enjoy yourself, I mean."

Ginny swallowed. Her retort – about him suggesting a more senior Auror for her – died in her throat. Because she had no interest in even joking about a one-night stand, no interest in relieving that particular ache with anyone at all. Not when she knew how different it could be, and once had been. Not when she could take care of it by herself just as easily. And without the awkwardness of the next day, the invitations the next week, the jokes in the locker room.

 _Unless he meant . ._ .

She looked at Harry's face. _He couldn't. He didn't . . . did he?_ She was suddenly aware that she was practically sitting in Harry's arms on the ground. Everything else may have been easy and comfortable again, but she couldn't ignore the shiver that passed between them; she didn't even know which of them had started it.

 _It's just that it's been a long time since you . . . And you can remember how it was._ Ginny frowned. She did remember. Because the physical wasn't one of those thoughts. But it made things more difficult, to have it.

Harry shifted next to her. "So, ummm, do you think you're okay to stand?" He stood up and then reached his hand down, putting it gently under her arm and helping her to her feet. His eyes were tense again, all Auror, as he glanced towards the trees that suddenly seemed too near. He reached down and picked up her broom.

"Let's get back, you need to be checked out by a medic and I need to talk to my partner."

Ginny nodded, and let him direct her. They didn't speak again on the walk back.

It was late when Harry got home to the flat he shared with Ron, but the rooms were empty; Ron must still be out with Hermione. After their kiss in the Room of Requirement during the final battle, the question of the two of them liking each other had finally been answered; the question of what they were going to do about it had been a little more tricky though, and Harry had spent more than one night setting silencing charms in his own room to mask the sounds of his two best friends fighting, or worse, making up.

But tonight it was quiet, and Harry was more than relieved. The day had been frustrating, tiring, and confusing, and the mystery about who had set off the muddling gas and why was only the least of it.

 _Had he actually suggested to Ginny that they have a one night stand?_

He'd been terrified, standing there on the pitch with the other Aurors when the Harpies began landing. Most of them had been far away from the explosion; a couple of the reserves had not even taken to the air yet. But Ginny did not appear.

He'd taken off without a backwards glance, in the direction of the thickest smoke, barely breathing until he finally saw her descending. She had rolled awkwardly off her broom and fallen to the ground at the edge of one of the practice fields, and Harry had feared the worst, until she'd gotten onto her hands and knees, and his brain had cleared enough to determine that the smoke was fairly innocuous.

They'd been joking around, comfortably, once he determined that she really was okay, and then, for some reason, he'd made that ridiculous comment about her finding someone experienced to be with. What had he been thinking, saying something like that? Ginny didn't need that kind of pressure from him. While he was surprised that she had not, apparently, been as . . . adventurous in that area as some of her teammates (he made a mental note to have a discussion with Gavin about watching himself from now on), there was no reason that she couldn't, or shouldn't enjoy herself. Like that. With someone she never had to see again. That's what the Harpies did, right? Hell, he'd heard it was practically a part of their playbook.

It had been an issue, actually, before they broke up. Ginny had been one of four new players on the Harpies when she had joined, and to Harry, it seemed like as much of the initiation onto the team involved drinking and parties and flirting as it did learning strategies and how to play as a cohesive unit. He'd gone to meet her and the team on a couple of occasions at a pub or party, and he had always felt awkward, no matter how often Ginny told him that she wanted him there. He had been certain that she couldn't fully relax and let her hair down with the rest of the team with him around; he always felt like Gwenog and some of the other more senior players considered him an intrusion on their fun. They seemed to favor the young, inexperienced Aurors who didn't have much authority; someone like Harry (who wasn't interested in anyone except Ginny anyway), wasn't what they had in mind.

He had purposely avoided the Harpies' hangouts since he and Ginny broke up. Mostly out of respect for Ginny – to give her space to do what she wanted. And anyway, no matter how okay he might be with her flirting with other blokes, his acceptance of the idea didn't mean he wanted to see it.

But she hadn't done anything, apparently. That was odd. And it had surprised him enough to make the joking comment that he now couldn't stop thinking about. There was also, if he was to be completely honest with himself, a bit of relief. Not that he didn't want her to be happy - he did - and if being with someone else made her happy, then, well, fine. But she hadn't, at least, not yet. It didn't make sense, knowing what he did about the Harpies. And at the same time, he understood perfectly.

Because he hadn't been with anyone since they had broken up either, he hadn't even wanted to. The thought of taking care of his regular physical urges with . . . well, with anyone . . . it just didn't interest him. Maybe it should, and maybe he could, in time. Someday.

Harry leaned back on his couch with a sigh. He was fooling himself, he knew. He'd been trying all afternoon to focus on the few facts they had from the attack, but his mind kept drifting. He'd propositioned her as if he was just another randy Auror trainee! Ginny was probably furious with him for even suggesting it; he'd crossed that unspoken line between them that avoided discussion of their past. It wasn't fair of him. The tiny crystal bottle, wrapped in a pair of socks and hidden away in his old Hogwarts trunk, made certain he didn't think about that line too often. But it couldn't keep out everything. Like the way she had looked today, running up and down the steps of the stadium, or rolling off her broom with her eyes wide and fearful and her hair falling around her face.

Sitting alone in the quiet of his flat, Harry final gave up his internal struggle. He undid his belt roughly and worked swiftly on the opening of his trousers, trying not to think about what he was going to do. Ever since the break up, the imagined women of his nighttime and shower fantasies had purposely been as far away from Ginny's physical type as possible; the most recent had been a tall, Nordic-type with a pixie hair cut. But now Harry closed his eyes and let himself imagine the way Ginny looked that morning in her practice clothes; the cropped track pants and matching fitted tank with "Weasley" across the back that kept everything contained but at the same time, showed every curve.

The image that rose unbidden into his head was a new one – that of Ginny on the ground that morning, her eyes lighting up at his suggestive joke. A quick nod of agreement at his idea, and then her legs, sliding around his waist as she straddled his lap, there on the ground. Even before he touched himself, Harry was hard at the thought; it had never been that easy before. But he knew Ginny's body almost too well, knew without even thinking how she would feel, sitting in his lap, pushing herself into the bulging erection that Harry instead grasped with his hand.

Now she was running her hands under his shirt, rocking her hips against his, lowering her mouth to his shoulder and pressing open, wet kisses there.

Harry pumped into his hand, imagining Ginny's smaller one there instead, wrapped around his length with his hand on top, gently guiding her until she found his rhythm. He knew exactly the way her eyes would look then, open wide, sparkling with excitement and desire, a tiny wrinkle between them on her forehead furrowed as she concentrated on bringing him pleasure. She had always loved to make him orgasm; she joked that it made her feel powerful, and Harry had given himself over to her completely during those times – those physical moments when they could lock away everything else that might have been going on between them.

In his mind, Ginny tightened her legs around him, and her hand was gone as she pushed herself onto him, guiding his penis inside. He pumped faster, imagining her riding him up and down, her breath coming in short pants as she begged him to hold on, just a little bit longer, until she could get there too . . ."

But there was no reason to wait and Harry came immediately, spurting over his hand and onto part of his shirt. For long minutes he sat on his sofa, his rapidly softening penis still in hand. For there were no soft kisses on his lips now, or fingers in his hair, or warm weight still on top of him. He never missed those things, when he wanked to the image of a stranger. But he couldn't really avoid them, when he thought of Ginny. It made sense; she was the only one he had ever been with. But it didn't change anything.


	2. Really Connecting

Everyone was tense that night in the flat; Leandra and reserve Keeper Katrina Block were practically mental, the way they circled the rooms, adding layer after layer of wards and spells that Ginny was pretty sure wouldn't keep out a pizza delivery boy, let alone a bunch of dark wizards; and several Aurors had been there anyway, adding their own (effective) protections to the flat. Harry had not been among them and Ginny didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

As scared she had been in the air when light suddenly disappeared and the force of the explosion knocked her sideways in the sky, she couldn't deny that she had felt absolutely safe the minute Harry had come through the smoke to find her. No matter what their history, despite any awkwardness of their relationship now, she trusted him with her life. They'd been together in dangerous situations before, hell, their early friendship and later, their relationship was practically built on danger. But today was the first time she'd seen him actually in action as an Auror; when they had been together, she'd made it a point not to interfere with his work. Watching him today, she knew she had done the right thing, letting him focus all his attention on work. He had been more than impressive today. Assured, in control, authoritative, sexy.

 _Sexy? Oh hell._

She couldn't really deny it to herself, and after a minute's mental berating, she stopped trying. Because she hadn't hidden her past physical attraction for Harry away along with all her other feelings; there had seemed to be no point in doing so, then. Memories of their physical relationship didn't cause her the same type of pain; she hadn't really expected to think about that part of their relationship later.

She hadn't anticipated that with much of the rest gone, one glimpse of Harry in his Auror robes, one concerned touch, a single joking comment, would bring that roaring back. She felt a flash of heat between her legs as she remembered sitting on the ground, his arms around her, the intense look she always associated with Harry taking care of things in his eyes. She knew him too well to think he hadn't felt something there himself. It was purely physical, of course, but hadn't he admitted that he hadn't been with anyone since her? And then joked about the two of them having a one-night stand?

The idea was as oddly intriguing as it was completely ridiculous. Harry didn't even have time for a meaningless fling, still, something he'd mentioned, about the two of them missing out on the wild times many of their peers experienced, made her wonder.

Ginny had been able to completely shut the door on her emotional feelings for Harry Potter, she knew it was right, and that they both were happy where they were in their lives.

But . . . she missed sex. With him. Hogwarts had been a time of exploration, nervous embarrassment, and a lot of fun. They hadn't made love for the first time until after the War was over, and even as their lives got busier and their relationship more complicated, being together that way had almost always made sense. Until the end, at least. But until then, their lovemaking had been tentative at first, and then more confident. At the end, it had been . . . hot. With the promise of more, before life had gotten in the way.

Ginny wasn't even aware that her hand had wandered into her knickers, or that she was (thankfully) alone in her room, until her fingers brushed her clit and she jumped at the jolt of pleasure that traveled up into her belly. Touching herself was something fairly new for Ginny; it had taken several months after the break up to even think about pleasuring herself, but after she realized that she really had no interest in any of the random men her roommates seemed to always bring home, she knew she would have to do something, or go crazy.

She almost always thought of Harry when she masturbated; she'd tried thinking of other things, but truly, there wasn't anything else that worked. She didn't even feel self conscious about it, usually. But now, with a real memory in her head, the physical feelings were much more intense, and Ginny felt herself spiraling out of control almost as soon as she dipped two fingers into her folds. Arching her back, she closed her eyes and remembered the way Harry had looked at her earlier. She imagined it was his fingers she was guiding inside her, as she had so many times before, and that he was saying to her, "You're so wet, Ginny," in his voice that was both husky with desire and yet still full of that boyish wonder that he could do this, to her. She pressed her thumb to her clit and couldn't help but cry out as her orgasm crashed over her. Ginny rocked on her hand, trying to draw it out, but as usually, the feeling faded quickly, and she was laying alone in her bed with the sheets tangled around her feet.

Rolling over, she vaguely noticed the blue glow of her walls that she assumed was from the extra wards. Gwenog had wanted to cancel practice tomorrow while the Aurors set up additional wards around their practice facility and the stadium, but they had an important game with the newest team in their league in less than a week, and they all needed to make up for the lost day. It would be an early morning and a tiring practice tomorrow. Her physical ache satisfied, Ginny finally fell asleep.

Over the next few days, things went more or less back to normal for Ginny and the other Harpies. There was a heavier presence of Aurors, to be sure, but they mostly confined themselves to the perimeter of the Harpies' facility. Many of Ginny's teammates grumbled at how studiously even the youngest trainees avoided the players and Ginny wanted to smack them sometimes. What did they think, that the Aurors would ignore their duties just for the chance to flirt some more? Luckily Ginny had a few allies in her teammates on the issue, and she couldn't hold back her grin when her friend Evie Snopes, who was the third regular Chaser, pointedly asked Leandra and Katrina if they didn't mind being blown up by dark wizards, as long as they got a good snog in first.

Ginny occasionally saw Harry from afar as she worked out with the team; if he noticed her at all during his daily meetings with the team's facilities managers and private security detail, he gave no indication. By the end of the week, after not a single instance of contact between them, Ginny was certain that Harry was showing how much more important his job (and their safety) was than anything they might have started together for fun. It was obvious now that Harry's comments had been nothing more than relieved teasing after he found her unharmed. Still, that had not stopped Ginny from using the image of Harry emerging from the smoke to take her in his arms every single night to help "relax" before falling asleep. She justified her actions with the thought that the most important thing was to get a good night sleep, and if that was what it took, so be it.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

By the day of the Harpies next match, Harry was more than tense. It didn't help that they were still no closer to figuring out exactly who was responsible for the Muddling gas; two days after the attack on the Harpies there had been a similar attack on the Earlham Eagles, the newest team in the league and the one the Harpies just happened to be playing that day. Kingsley was uncomfortable about the Aurors' lack of progress, but suggestions of postponing the game had been met with vehement opposition from both captains and team owners. There would be a strong security presence at the game, of course; Kingsley had pulled in every available Auror to be either at the stadium or back at headquarters on alert. Harry was glad he'd been assigned to work the game, and that he would actually be close to the players during the match. His duties would involve circling the edges of pitch during play and watching for anyone who might try to start something from a close distance. Other Aurors and the teams' security detail would focus on longer range attacks.

And despite his promises to himself, he had not stopped his nightly wank to images of Ginny. Every evening he lay in bed trying to dredge up an image of someone else, anyone else. And it never worked. Last night he had closed his eyes to thoughts of Ginny standing in front of him and stripping out of her practice uniform after a workout. Harry himself was sweaty after lifting weights for an hour and he had actually put the fingers that were not wrapped around himself into his mouth and licked, imagining that his head was between Ginny's breasts and he was tasting her instead.

But his mind was far from Ginny that morning. This was an important game for both teams and emotions were running high. The stadium was almost totally full of fans of the Harpies and Eagles; there were also a number of players and coaches from other teams who were interested in watching the Eagles play. It was going to take all of Harry's concentration to focus on what was going on around him and to keep from looking upward while he searched the ground for anything out of the ordinary.

The game lasted nearly three hours and Harry only looked for Ginny twice, when the announcer mentioned particularly rough fouls on her. He couldn't help but listen as he prowled the sidelines though, and the Harpies definitely held their own against the new (and bigger) team. The nature of Quidditch matches meant that the ground Harry was pacing was actually pretty deserted; because most of the action was up in the air, there were only a couple of trainers and regular security guards down on the ground with him.

He was relieved when the Harpies finally won the close game, and the entire team drifted down together in a massive tangle of hugs and high-fives that reminded Harry of winning the Quidditch Cup his third year. The Eagles were descending too, for the post match handshakes and interviews from the various journalists from the Daily Prophet, Quidditch Today, Which Broomstick, and several wireless stations, and many of the fans were swarming the fields for photos and autographs. Harry let himself get caught up in the celebratory moment with everyone else. He wasn't even fully aware that he was casually making his way towards Ginny with half a mind to congratulate her before he was suddenly there, standing next to her.

She was facing mostly away from him and as she reached her arms up to hug someone on her other side her hip brushed against him and the force of the crowd pushed him into her. Ginny didn't even notice at first, there were so many people around, and Harry closed his eyes for a moment before he took a deep breath and considered slipping away from a situation that could too rapidly morph into one of his nighttime fantasies. But then she turned and smiled at him and he had to smile back as she moved in for a congratulatory hug. There was no way she could miss the feel of the erection that was growing between them, and Harry flushed, horrified at his inability to control himself. But instead of pulling away, Ginny smirked at him and then pressed herself even closer.

 _What . . . Is she saying she . . . . does she want, that?_

It was absolutely the wrong time to ask. Hell, it was absolutely the wrong thing to ask, ever, really. He and Ginny, they didn't do that kind of thing anymore. It was a given. But before he could even figure out exactly what he wanted to do the crowd was pushing at them from all sides and Harry frowned, his Auror's senses taking over as he realized that something did not feel right. The crowd seemed to be louder and wilder than was usual for a non-championship match, and he heard pops of Apparation mixed with shouts and jeers and screams. It reminded him of the Death Eaters after the Quidditch World Cup and he was immediately on alert, pulling out his wand and trying to move back to the edge of the field.

Ginny turned, her mouth an "O" of surprise as someone pushed her roughly from the back and she practically fell into Harry's arms.

"Harry? What's happening?"

"I don't know," he muttered, spinning in place and trying to make sense of the sounds and the direction they were coming from. The yells were getting louder and Ginny was pressed up against him again but this time he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the loudest screaming, now mixed with the cracks and roars of hexes flying across short distances. The crowd cleared in front of him for a moment and he caught a glimpse of what looked like a number of dark robes fighting in the middle of the field. Four Aurors were convening on the fighters and Harry began pushing his way to them when he felt a soft rush of air near his ear and he suddenly heard Kingsley's voice.

"Potter, Dirkson, Wolfe and Meyers - get the players off the field to one of the safe locations and focus on the perimeter. Cooke and I are setting up anti-Apparition wards now. The rest of you get to the fight and try to contain it and capture anyone you can. Mild containment spells only, except in self-defense."

Harry turned again. Ginny was still right there, now with Leandra and Beater Kennedy Smythe. The latter two looked terrified but Ginny's face was calm and determined. Her wand was out and she was stood waiting for his direction.

"Come on," he said tersely to the three. "Let's see if we can get out, that way." He pointed his wand to his left and grabbed Leandra and Kennedy by their upper arms to steer them away from the noise. He had to tug to get Leandra moving, she seemed to be frozen in shock. Luckily Ginny was right behind him and she took Leandra's other arm and pulled her along too. It was difficult pushing through the crowd, and a sudden explosion that sounded a lot like the one that had stopped the Harpies' practice a week earlier caused the already frenzied crowd to break into all out pandemonium. Harry was panting by they time they reached the first aid tent that had been designated a safe location; Leandra had not gotten any more willing to move on her own and now she stood at the door to the tent hyperventilating. Kennedy grabbed Leandra's arm and yelled thanks over her shoulder to Harry as she pushed the Chaser ahead of her into the tent.

Harry spun around to say goodbye to Ginny. He probably needed to admonish her to stay put too, he thought to himself. Ginny still had her wand out and her eyes were actually bright with excitement, not fear. It wouldn't be out of character for her to jump on her broom and try chasing after the suspects herself; she had certainly proven herself capable during the DA and afterwards, in real battle. He was about to tell her to get inside the tent when a strange sight in the corner of his eye made him stop. Two dark, blurred figures were slipping away between several buildings across the field, headed in the direction of the Harpies' more remote practice areas.

"What the . . ." he began, already half moving in that direction. Ginny caught his eye and then looked towards the figures. She understood immediately and moved in tandem with him.

"Ginny . . ." Harry didn't even have time to stop her, he was too focused on keeping his eyes on the cloaked men. "Get back to the tent."

"No," she replied, jogging easily beside him. "There's no one else to help right now."

Harry sighed but didn't push it. She was right, anyway. But as they broke past the final building, there was swirl of smoke and then nothing.

"Damn," Harry swore, looking into the trees where two figures had been just moments ago. "How did they get past the Anti-Apparition wards?"

"More importantly, how are they getting out of the security wards?" said Ginny. "No one should be able to make it to those trees from here; the boundary of Harpies' property is about ten feet closer, and away from the two main entrances, the wards prevent both comings and goings."

Harry frowned at her words, then sighed. There was going to be hell to pay as soon as the damage assessment was complete. And he wasn't sure he wasn't going to be one of the people paying it. He and the rest of the team of Aurors that had been supposedly working on security all week.

"Better get back," he said to Ginny, even though facing Kingsley and the team owners was the last thing he wanted to do. He put his hand on Ginny's arm automatically, but before he could even take a step there was another puff of wind against his head and he heard Kingsley's voice.

"Potter! Where are you?" Ginny looked up curiously. Harry knew that all she could hear was a strange rushing noise as Kingsley communicated with him via a two-way spell developed by the Aurors.

Harry waved his wand in the air and muttered Kingsley's name before replying. "I'm by the far left scrimmage field. I chased two figures here but they Disapparated somehow. And apparently got around the regular security wards as well."

"Have you seen Ginny Weasley?" interrupted Kingsley. "She's the only Harpies player missing."

Harry hesitated, looking at Ginny before replying. "Uhh, yeah. She's with me. She . . . helped me chase down the two men." Inwardly, Harry groaned. Auror policy was to protect the innocent first, even before chasing or fighting threats. He was going to get raked over the coals for letting Ginny come with him.

But Kingsley didn't seem upset at the breach of policy. "I'm glad she's safe. You're going to have to keep her with you there a while longer. The situation has gotten more complicated."

"What's wrong?"

HPHPHPHPHP

"What's wrong?" Ginny looked up when the tone of Harry's voice changed as he spoke into the air. She remembered him telling her about new ways the Aurors had to communicate over distances, ways that were subtler than talking Patronuses, and she assumed that was what Harry was doing. He nodded at whatever he was hearing. Then, "You're kidding. They did what?" Another nod. "Okay. How long, do you think? Yeah, I will. And I'll let you know if I see any."

Harry waved his wand in the air again and looked at Ginny. He was about to speak when his head suddenly whipped around in response to something she couldn't see. Abruptly he squinted and rubbed his eyes and then grabbed her and pulled her with him into the copse of trees right at the edge of the property. "Close your eyes," he commanded, backing her into a large oak and pushing her head down into his chest. Ginny was about to ask what was going on when she felt Harry moving his arm near her and heard him mutter Kingsley's name again. A second later he spoke, but not to her.

"I found one. Stinging spray by the smell of it – I caught some in my face before I could get a shield up. No, I think she's okay. That's fine, I can handle it. She . . . she understands these things better than most. Okay."

"We have to stay here for a while," Harry's voice was low and serious in her ear. Ginny knew she should probably be scared, but Harry's closeness was distracting her from most rational thought. "They've booby trapped the area with charms that are tied to movement." He swore. "It's really clever, actually. We must have set off one when we ran here. A stinging solution, I think. Do your eyes hurt?" His hand was suddenly under her chin and he lifted her face up. "Open them so I can see."

Ginny did as she was told. Harry's eyes looked into hers, so intense and focused they were almost black. His expression was calm but Ginny had felt him shiver when he touched her face. "They look okay," he finally said. "Keep your head down though. Kingsley said they are going to try to send charmed Bludgers into the area to uncover the other traps."

Ginny couldn't help but look up at Harry. "While we're still here?" she asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged. "We don't really have a choice. It's better that setting them off accidentally while we walk back and if they lower the Anti-Apparition wards it could set everything off at once. I put a number of protective charms around us. They should keep out the types of spells and charms we seem to be dealing with." He tightened his arms around her, but the move felt reflexive and businesslike to Ginny, as if Harry was simply fulfilling his duty as an Auror to protect her.

"What is . . ." Ginny began, but Harry shushed her. "I need to be able to hear the charms as they go off," he said. Almost immediately, there was a loud pop nearby and Harry pulled her head to his chest again. "Hold on." Ginny smelled something sickly sweet and heard Harry mutter under his breath as he waved his wand around them again. After a long minute he relaxed slightly and Ginny dared to look up. He had an unreadable expression on his face and after a glance at her, he looked over her shoulder into the distance, as if searching for something. At the same time, she felt his body shift, almost infinitesimally, against hers. The briefest moment of pressure against her belly and then gone. Ginny shivered. She knew that feeling – and she wished it would come back.

A second later she was ashamed at herself. She must have imagined it. _They were in danger, right now! Harry was protecting her and she was acting like a randy teenager!_ Ginny shook her head, willing it to clear of other visions of Harry pressed up against her the way he was now. But she couldn't ignore the tingling between between her legs or the way her heart started beating even faster.

 _Hopefully he just thinks I'm scared._

But then Harry shifted again and Ginny was sure. The motion was familiar, and even though she hadn't felt it since the early days of their relationship, there was no question in her mind what it was. Harry was trying to hide his arousal from her, but at the same time, she knew, he didn't completely want to. It was just like when they had first gotten together and neither of them knew exactly what to do with Harry's overly excited member. He had been duly embarrassed when he got hard while they were kissing and Ginny had never known whether to say anything, ignore it, or do what she really wanted, and grind herself against it.

She was faced with a similar dilemma now. It was better, in a way, because it wasn't her first encounter with one of Harry's erections, but of course, it was also much worse, because there was nothing to do about it.

Harry rubbed more purposely against her, still looking away and Ginny couldn't help it when her hips almost automatically thrust back. Harry sucked in his breath and looked down at her. His eyes were still wary of their surroundings but underneath the awareness was . . . something else that made Ginny's breath catch in her throat. He stared at her for a long minute and then his eyes went unfocused and Ginny heard the rushing sound again. Immediately, Harry was in full Auror mode again, speaking to Kingsley.

"Yes. Okay. Well, that's something. No, we heard two more – one was definitely another stinging solution and then a muddling gas again. Right." He listened for another minute. His eyes were far away but his body moved almost imperceptibly closer and Ginny felt his erection press into her hip. She didn't dare breath. Suddenly Harry looked swiftly down at her. He kept staring while he told Kingsley, "Give us about ten minutes. I want to make sure the area's clear first." He didn't break eye contact while he nodded and finished his conversation, waving his wand until it was silent again.

Ginny just looked back at him. The air was so heavy around them that she wasn't sure she'd be able to lift her legs to walk out of there. She didn't want to move away from the feel of his hot breath on her neck as he tried to slow his breathing. "What . . ." she began.

"Don't." Harry's hands were on her shoulders, his body pressing into hers. He wasn't looking at her anymore and Ginny heard him swallow harshly, as if considering. She rolled her hips against his and he thrust back so violently she knew he wasn't completely in control of his actions. His eyes met hers one more time and whatever he saw in them seemed to convince him because suddenly he was pressing against her insistently, moving up and down against her until his erection found her center and she gasped.

HPHPHPHPHPH

As soon as he pulled Ginny against him to protect her from the Stinging Spray, Harry knew he was in trouble. Even though his brain was mentally cataloguing every inch of the scene around them, looking for anything suspicious and tensed to defend if necessary, his body was clearly getting ready to enjoy itself, completely oblivious to the danger.

Actually, in this case, his body was the danger. Whether to Ginny, or Harry's own pride, he wasn't sure. _Focus, Harry! Think of Kingsley in a pink thong!_ But that wouldn't work here, because Harry's mind was on full Auror alert. Only his body wasn't paying attention. And he couldn't get away from her smell, a mixture of the clean, flowery scent he'd always loved mixed with sweat and adrenaline. It made his heart beat faster and reminded him of Gryffindor Quidditch and snogging afterwards in the changing rooms. And now that his penis had found the familiar curve of Ginny's inner thigh, Harry couldn't stop himself from brushing it against her. And again.

It was if his body had a mind of its own, completely disconnected from his brain. And that other mind wanted to thrust. With superhuman effort, Harry shifted away, simultaneously tightening his arms around Ginny as he heard another charm explode nearby. Hopefully it would be over soon and he could get the hell away before he really . . .

She thrust back.

Harry's brain turned off at that point. _Had she really? Maybe she's just trying to push me away from her . . . with her pelvis._ Harry stifled a groan. It wasn't like Ginny was unfamiliar with his erections. Or his bumbling attempts (usually failing) to hide them. It had taken almost their entire time together at Hogwarts for him not to feel self conscious at the reaction his body had for her pretty much all the time. Usually he had just hidden it under his robes. But when they had been pressed together, like they were now, well, there had been no place to hide. And he was sure that now, like then, his shifting and wiggling wasn't fooling her at all. Ginny pushed against him again, gently, and Harry decided not to think. This felt too good. It had been so long and . . .

Kingsley. Damn.

It hopefully sounded to his superior that Harry was in full Auror mode – focused on protecting an innocent and keeping his wits about him while he looked for any other dangers.

Hopefully Kingsley had no idea that a completely other section of Harry's brain was not really thinking about anything at all.

Mechanically, Harry ended the call. He couldn't look at her. _Walk away, Harry. Walk away. Now._ But he knew he wouldn't. He'd just asked Kingsley for ten minutes, so he could . . . what? Ginny rolled her hips into his more insistently and as if it was a moth drawn to a flame, Harry couldn't help but push back. She started to say something and the sound of her voice made him waver. _Don't talk._

"Don't." He grasped her tightly and covered her body with his, up against the tree. Her head tilted back and she moaned lightly under him, her hands already at the front of his trousers. She didn't bother with his belt, just unzipped and slipped her hand inside.

"Yesssss." The word ripped from Harry's mouth and he thrust into her hand, feeling her, soft and warm against his heat. He pulled roughly at the bottom of her jersey until it was up under her armpits and ran his hands over her taut stomach and then underneath the bottom of the fitted sports bra she wore. Ginny groaned as he found her nipples and Harry groaned back when he found they were already hard.

 _Ten minutes._

Harry let his instincts take over completely, grabbing at his belt and pushing down his trousers and boxers. His now full erection swung free and Ginny grasped it with both hands, running up and down the length. She was panting slightly and when he put his hands on her waist and dipped his fingers inside to caress the smooth skin of her hips he stopped and looked at her. She looked back, her eyes wide and unfocused. She swallowed hard and he felt her shudder as she shuffled closer to his erect penis, trying to push it against her center.

"Just fucking do it, Harry," she growled suddenly and then the glorious pressure on him was gone because she was fumbling with her own uniform pants.

"I got it," he said roughly. He pulled them, and her knickers down in one motion and closed the gap between them. She kicked off one side of her pants and wrapped her leg around his hip, and he could feel her wetness rub against his bare skin. His breath hitched in his throat and he grabbed her bum in his hands and lifted her up until he could lower her onto his shaft, sliding her down smoothly until he filled her completely. He froze there for a second, enjoying the feel of being completely encased by her – a feeling he just couldn't recreate with his hand. Then he pressed her into the tree to balance himself before pulling back and thrusting.

She had both hands on his back, clawing him through the material of his shirt and her other leg came up and wrapped around him too. Roughly he pushed into her once, twice, and three times and he knew he was close. He hadn't had sex in over ten months, he'd been wanking to images of Ginny in her Quidditch gear for a week and they could be discovered by Harry's boss any minute. One more thrust and Harry exploded inside her, letting his head fall onto her shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

He lowered her with shaking arms to the ground, thinking belatedly that it was a good thing she still had her shirt on, or the bark of the tree would have been uncomfortable. It had been very quick, completely physical, and extremely satisfying.

For him.

HPHPHPHPHPH

Ginny felt an ache of disappointment when Harry groaned with his orgasm. Her body was still tightly coiled around the desire he'd created by grabbing her here, against the tree. While talking to Kingsley, for Merlin's sake! When he'd put his hands on her bum to lift her onto him she'd groaned out loud with relief of months of pent up frustration she hadn't even been aware of feeling. The position of his penis as it thrust in and out had rubbed deliciously against her clit, but not for quite long enough to get her over the edge too. And now he was done and pulling up his trousers and it looked like Ginny was going to have to finish on her own, later.

She bent down to straighten her pants before pulling them up, but the feel of Harry's hand on her bare hip stopped her.

"Wait," he said. She looked up at him and his eyes were still dark and serious. "You didn't . . . I mean, I want to . . . if you want . . ." he flushed, pulling his eyes away, but at the same time, his hand traveled lightly from her hip to brush against her curls, still wet with her own desire and his fluids.

Ginny couldn't help the shudder that went through her and she stood up and leaned back against the tree, closing her eyes, feeling tiny jolts of pleasure as Harry's fingers expertly swirled around her opening and then dipped inside. Even standing, she arched towards him, a whimper of need escaping as her thighs clenched involuntarily around his hand. In and out and in and out he thrust until Ginny felt the tingling growing between her legs and starting to travel upwards.

Then his thumb moved onto her clitoris with the exact right amount of pressure, circling slowly, pressing and retreating until Ginny didn't even remember her own name. She was only vaguely aware that Harry had moved closer to her as he worked, now rubbing himself gently against her thigh even as his hand worked her center.

"Ohhhh," Ginny groaned, reflexively contracting her legs and pushing herself back against the tree to keep herself upright as her entire body disconnected from everything except the pleasure Harry was giving her.

Harry added more pressure with his thumb and then Ginny was there and didn't even try to hold back. Her orgasm crashed over her as completely as his had and her hips tilted up towards him to draw it out just a few seconds longer. She didn't open her eyes as she felt him pull his hand away and heard him mutter the spells that would clean them both. Her legs were still shaking as she reached down again to pull up her pants, and then, finally, to look Harry in the face. His smile was resigned, but also a bit pleased, and Ginny was sure her face reflected his.

It may have been quick, and it may not have meant anything except pure physical enjoyment, but Ginny was sure that it would not have been nearly as good with anyone other than Harry. They couldn't ignore their past, or the barriers irrevocably between them now, but maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to enjoy themselves anyway.


	3. In the Loo

We're going to talk about this, right?" Harry had his arm around Ginny's shoulder as they walked back but Ginny was pretty sure he was just following correct Auror policy to make sure she got back to the first aid tent in one piece.

"I mean . . . I don't want you to think . . . this wasn't . . . I didn't plan that, okay?"

"Neither did I," said Ginny, hoping the blush wasn't showing too much on her face. Because even though she had been surprised by Harry's actions, it would be a lie to say she hadn't been imagining . . . well, something like that, ever since Harry had joked about it.

"But . . . I enjoyed it." Harry's voice was quiet, and Ginny twisted around to look at him. There was no hint of a smile on his face now. She sighed.

"Yeah. I did too. Even though I wasn't expecting it."

"Maybe that's why it was fun," Harry mused. "Because we weren't expecting it." He looked at her. "I'm not, well, expecting anything now, don't worry." He had an odd look on his face and Ginny was about to assure him that she felt the same way when Harry squeezed her arm and pulled her to a stop just behind their workout room.

"Listen, we are going to talk, okay? I just can't . . . now, you know? I have to . . ."

"Go be an Auror, I know," Ginny finished for him. "Don't worry, Harry. Of all people, I definitely understand."

Harry looked relieved. "Thanks. I figured. I just didn't want you to think . . ." He trailed off, and shrugged.

Ginny sighed to herself. She actually didn't know if he was meant he didn't want her to think he wanted to start something again, or was being nice, and didn't want her to think they would never mention it again. Which conclusion should she jump to?

HPHPHPHPHPHP

After the kind of morning he'd had, Harry could have easily survived that night without a wank, but with Ginny's smell still on his robes and the feel and sight of her still in his head, he couldn't resist trying to recreate the sensation as best he could, alone. It wasn't even close, and yet, still better by far than any other evening. He sighed.

They had parted with Harry promising he would get in touch with her as soon as he had a free moment away from work, and she had reminded him that the following week the Harpies had several road games that would keep her away anyway, and so nothing had been decided. Unspoken between them was the understanding that they wouldn't mention what had happened to anyone; Ginny had actually been the first to wiggle away from his arm before they returned to the rest of the Harpies, giving Harry a small smile and telling him she could make it the rest of the way on her own.

It had been almost too easy, Harry realized. And that was why he wanted to do it again.

But first, he and Ginny had to talk. Just talk. Nothing else. As soon as both their schedules permitted it.

What their schedules permitted – the very next night, surprisingly – was for Harry to take Ginny up against the wall of the loo at the same pub they had run into each other the week before.

Harry had been finishing up an interview with the bartender about a regular group of customers who kept reserving a private room; Ginny was there because Gwenog decided the team needed to relax after the stress of the attacks.

When Harry caught Ginny's eye, she involuntarily licked her lips, and that was all it took. He raised his eyebrows in question, she jerked her head subtly towards the back of the pub, and the two of them met up in the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Harry was impressed with Ginny's quick transfiguration job – the sign that had said "Gents" suddenly became "out of order" – and the two of them slipped unobserved through the door.

"Why not the ladies?" Harry asked breathlessly once Ginny had looked critically around and cast a few quick cleaning spells on the space. Her hand was already at his zipper and she was insistently tugging his shirt out of his trousers with the other. Harry slid his hands up her back and pushed himself against her, groaning with relief as her fingers found him and began stroking softly, letting him harden in her hand.

"Less chance someone will need the gents," Ginny said, her explanation ending in a groan as Harry pulled her knickers down from under her skirt (damn, he liked skirts), and his fingers found her opening, already slick.

He swirled his fingers around a bit before delving in, determined to bring Ginny to orgasm first this time. Her back slid a little down the wall as Harry's ministrations splayed her legs wider and he caught her around the back with his other arm, cushioning her.

"Should have cast a charm on the wall too," she panted. "Didn't think of that."

"Have you ever had sex in a loo before?" asked Harry, smirking. He didn't think she'd be able to reply, as he'd just found her clit and was now gently stroking it back and forth with his thumb. Ginny swallowed hard. "I don't know," she gasped, somehow managing to raise her eyebrows at him even as her thighs clenched around his hand. "Have we?"

"Touche," laughed Harry."

Ginny was wiggling beneath his fingers and her own hand had fallen off of him because she'd grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer. Harry had to force himself to let his other arm remain where it was behind her. He swirled faster, knowing that once Ginny came, he could get relief too.

"Merlin," she groaned. "Wait . . . Harry . . . not like this."

"Huh?" Harry slowed his hand. She was changing her mind, now?

"I want you . . . inside me . . . before I come." Her hand was back at the front of his trousers and now she unbuttoned them and pushed them over Harry's hips, along with his boxers. Harry gingerly pulled his arm out from around her back; it was tingling from being pushed against the wall for so long. He didn't want to break the mood by asking Ginny to wait, but he didn't have enough feeling in his arm to support her weight just then. An idea hit him and he swallowed.

"Turn around," he said thickly. "Put your hands on the sink."

He watched as Ginny understood. She swallowed hard herself. "Yes," she whispered, neatly stepping out of her knickers and bending over so that her arms hugged the sink.

Harry pushed her skirt up over her hips. Her bum was clenched and Harry could just see her curls glistening below. He reached his hand around Ginny's front and found her center. He rubbed for a second and was rewarded as Ginny thrust involuntarily back into him.

Harry was so hard he was trembling slightly as he took himself in hand to position himself behind Ginny. One wrong stroke and he was afraid he might orgasm all her over back.

Slowly, he eased himself inside, hissing at the pressure this angle provided. Ginny moaned and bent over even farther, pushing herself back against his hips.

They had never had sex in this position before, and feeling himself moving in and out of Ginny, watching his penis appear and disappear as he plunged deeper and deeper, Harry had no idea why. It was bloody fantastic. In front of him, Ginny's voice was a garbled mix of "oh Merlins" and "right there, Harry, right there!" so he figured she was enjoying it too.

Harry had started with his hands on her hips, but now he moved one to snake around her waist.

 _Hmmm. Interesting._

From this position, Harry realized he could reach Ginny's clitoris easily, unblocked by his body as it was when they had sex face to face. He pulled back again, and as he thrust, he rubbed his thumb across it and Ginny screamed.

The sound of Ginny, undone below him, brought Harry right to the brink. He struggled not to slam Ginny's stomach into the sink as he pushed harder and harder, his rhythm completely gone.

"Come on, Ginny," he panted. "I'm there . . . I'm . . . there _now,_ just . . . come onnnnn." He struggled to hold himself together for even a second longer; feeling Ginny writhing below him left barely another thought in his head.

"Touch me, Harry . . . Touch me more . . . I'm . . . almost . . . there . . ."

Ginny's scream had stilled Harry's hand, so focused was he on his own pleasure, and now he began to swirl frantically again. But he could not hold himself back and a second later he slammed into her a final time and came hard. His legs trembled so much beneath him that Harry nearly fell to the floor, pulling Ginny along with him into his lap. But she was gripping the sink too firmly as her back arched against him with her own climax. She screamed again, and this time it was his name.

Harry had no words. He rested his head against Ginny's back, panting, his other hand running gently up and down her side, underneath her shirt, which he had apparently pulled to the side at some point. Below him, Ginny was catching her breath.

"Did you set any silencing spells?" She asked eventually. Harry stilled.

"Uhh, no. Just a locking charm. And, umm, a contraceptive charm."

Ginny turned around to look at him. "You did? When? I don't remember."

Harry blushed. "Well, before, obviously. You were kind of distracted at the time."

"Ahhh." Ginny blushed too. "I did a charm after last time. We forgot then." She frowned. "Do you think anyone heard us?"

Harry couldn't help but smirk. "Probably just the entire pub. I've never heard you yell like that."

"Me? You're the one who was going on about how it was 'so good, so hot, so tight' as loudly as if you were at a Quidditch match."

Now it was Harry's turn to frown. "I did?" He could barely remember. "Wow. Well." He looked at Ginny. "It was that good."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah, it was. I guess we're not too bad at this one night stand stuff after all."

A protective feeling rose up in Harry. _With you, I'm only that good with you._ He bit the words back at the last minute and changed course. "And we should talk about that," said Harry firmly. "Before . . . I mean, in case . . . well, we just should talk. Can we find a booth or do you need to be with your team?"

"I'm not joined with them at the hip, Harry. Of course I can talk to you." She watched as he began to undo the locking charms on the loo door.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"You don't happen to have your Invisibility Cloak to get out of here, do you?"


	4. The Rules

As Ginny had predicted, there was a line outside the door to the women's loo, but no one waiting for the gent's. It didn't make the situation any less embarrassing, of course, especially when Leandra raised her eyebrows at Ginny and tried to give her a high-five as Harry guided her past.

"Isn't that Harry Potter?" someone else asked as they walked by, but Ginny didn't even turn around to see who it was. She was certain she'd get grilled by her flatmates later and she'd have to have her story straight by then. Some of the Harpies knew she and Harry had once dated, but they hadn't spent a lot of time together around her teammates. Harry had been somewhat uncomfortable to stay over at her flat, so they usually had gone to his. He had come to every game he could, but he had usually stayed in the background as much as possible, especially after the matches, when the crowds and the press would not have given them a moment alone anyway.

When they'd broken up, Ginny had downplayed the importance of the relationship so that she didn't have to talk about it too much, and the subject had died fairly quickly, as if Harry had been just another Auror having a fling with just another Harpy.

What hadn't died, however, was her teammates ribbing about Ginny's celibate status ever since. Leandra and Evie had made it their own personal mission to get Ginny laid, and it was getting wearing. _Maybe seeing us will shut them up,_ she thought.

Despite the knowing smirks from her teammates who had seen them come out of the loo, most of the patrons seemed fairly oblivious. Scanning the crowded main room, Ginny was more than relieved not to see even a hint of Weasley red; the last thing either she or Harry needed was to have any of her brothers aware of what had happened. Her family had taken the break up even harder than she or Harry had, Ginny sometimes thought.

Harry guided them to a small alcove table towards the back of the pub. "What do you want to drink? Are you hungry? I can go to the bar . . . but can you have alcohol, or does Gwenog have rules about that?" He prattled on nervously, rocking back and forth on his feet while Ginny sat down.

Ginny looked at him closely for a second, trying to figure out what was wrong. Maybe he had broken some Auror rule, by fooling around with someone he was supposed to be protecting. But that didn't make any sense; she'd seen plenty of young Aurors chatting up her teammates and other Quidditch players, and she knew for a fact (thanks to Leandra's drunken ramblings), that some of them were having sex. And in places even more odd than a pub bathroom.

Maybe he was worried about the press. Harry kept such a low profile that he managed to stay out of the papers most of the time, and his quiet personal life these past months had seemed to help deflate interest in his comings and goings. Ginny didn't know if curiosity in him would be rekindled if word of their tryst got out; somehow she doubted that Harry's love life had become so uninteresting that he could totally let his guard down these days, as if he was just an ordinary bloke.

But Ginny saw no flashes of cameras waiting to capture their faces and the din of the pub was as noisy as ever. Harry was still looking at her, waiting for something as he stood beside their booth. And it bothered her, although at first she couldn't put her finger on why.

"No, I can drink," she finally said. When he continued to look at her inquisitively, she added, "a glass of goblin-made wine, please." Harry nodded, and disappeared into the crowd, and Ginny realized what felt off.

Just as Harry no longer knew what she liked to drink in a pub, she wasn't at all sure what exactly he wanted to talk to her about. Despite the emotional detachment that she had carefully cultivated (helped along by both time and magic), it was disconcerting to realize that she could no longer look at Harry's face and know everything he was thinking.

Ginny sighed. It made sense, she supposed. They had not been together for almost ten months. Still, the ease with which they had come together to couple, even after all that time, had masked the distance between them. She'd had no trouble understanding what Harry had wanted in the woods yesterday; she had easily seen the conflict between his transparent desire for sex and his even stronger need to be an Auror and protect her. That the two desires had lined up (for about ten minutes, at least), was probably dumb luck on their part.

And tonight . . . well, yesterday had probably just made him as randy as it had made her. Just one of those things that happens between exes occasionally, she supposed.

Harry came back carrying their drinks and a plate of biscuits. He set them down on the table and stood looking down at the table before awkwardly sliding into the seat opposite her.

 _Not next to her. Right_.

Ginny considered trying to lighten the mood by making a joke about how long he'd been gone and whether he'd run into another Chaser by the loo. She just as immediately rejected the idea; it wasn't really a funny joke. She fiddled with the stem of her wine glass, twirling it around and watching the wine swirl inside while Harry took mechanical drink after drink of his ale. Finally, he looked up at her.

"Ginny, I . . ." he broke off and looked back down at the table and Ginny saw him take a deep breath. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were soft. "I'm sorry."

Ginny had no trouble reading his expression this time. Harry felt guilty about . . . something. And pretending not to understand why just to draw it out of him would only prolong the awkwardness. Besides, Ginny had a pretty good idea what was bothering him. She was direct.

"For shagging me? Or for shagging me in the woods and a loo when you were supposed to be working?"

Harry looked surprised. "No! Not because we had sex, I mean . . . that doesn't . . . I had . . ." He peered at her. "Unless of course it bothers you." It was almost a question, and he hesitated, as if fearing the answer.

Ginny shook her head. "I told you yesterday, I enjoyed it. And I did." She blushed, of course. "And just now, too."

Harry relaxed. "Good. I did too. A lot." He put extra emphasis on the last word and Ginny couldn't help but laugh as some of the tension between them drained away. Harry looked at her earnestly. "But we should still talk about it. What it means, and what we're going to tell people. And whether we're . . ." he trailed off.

Ginny looked closely at him. "Whether we're going to, what? Do you mean . . .?"

Harry had a strangely hopeful look on his face. As odd as it was to have to relearn how to read him, Ginny was certain he was not asking if she wanted to get back together. She watched his fingers, nervously picking apart a biscuit and scattering the crumbs on the table, and catalogued his appearance. The circles under his eyes were deep, like they got whenever he was particularly engrossed in a case and didn't sleep. But even sitting here with her, they occasionally darted around the room, checking faces, mapping out the location of the door. Twice she saw his hand twitch towards his wand, then relax.

He was looking away again, this time towards the bar where Gwenog and some of the other players were laughing over pints of beer, dropping steaming shots of something inside them and then chugging the entire concoction down in one go. His forehead was wrinkled in thought and again Ginny was struck with the feeling of not knowing.

"You're sure you don't want to be with them?" He gestured to the bar and her teammates.

"Harry, I said it's fine. I don't need to get wasted with them every time." Ginny grimaced. "Anyway, someone has to make sure no one splinches themselves on the way home, and brew the hangover potion in the morning." She put her hand on his. "Unless . . . do you need to be working?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I got what I needed earlier and I can write the report tomorrow morning." He frowned for a second. "Is this the only pub the Harpies like to go to? Or could you switch to another one, for a while? It's just . . ." he glanced around again, lowering his voice. "I think it might be . . . better."

"You've found something out, haven't you? About who attacked us yesterday." Ginny allowed herself a small smile of understanding. This whole thing was about Harry's need to work. But Harry was shaking his head.

"I don't know . . ., maybe. It's more a . . . a feeling, you know? I'd just like it better if you weren't around here so much, for the next couple of weeks."

"Well, we won't be, anyway," Ginny reminded him. "We have a road trip coming up, remember?"

Harry nodded. "Right. Good." He shuffled his glass around in his hand and took a breath. "Which is why I think we should talk about . . . this" – he gestured between them and nodded his head towards the loo – "now." He looked back at Ginny. "I was just wondering what you were thinking, other than the fact that you liked it, of course." He gave her a smile that was only half a smirk and Ginny could see he really wanted her to answer.

Ginny was still. _Should she tell him? It could make things awkward. Well, more awkward. And they'd been getting to a nice place between them too._

But watching Harry's face, Ginny suddenly understood his hopeful look. Actually, it was both hopeful . . . and hungry. She shivered, the memory of Harry thrusting into her suddenly very clear in her mind. She knew what he wanted her to say, knew it as clearly as if he'd said it out loud. She finished his earlier sentence for him.

"You want to know if we're going to do this," – she tilted her own head towards the loo – "again."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "I was wondering, you know, I mean, you liked it, and I liked it, and, it's not like either of us are involved with anyone else, so . . ." He opened his hands as if to say _why not?_ and looked at Ginny with a grin.

"Why not, indeed," she murmured, thinking. For a moment, common sense reigned. "I don't know, Harry, do you think it's a good idea?" A second later, her libido knocked common sense unconscious. "I mean," she added hastily, "it is a good idea, in a lot of ways. Brilliant, even, if we can figure out how . . . or what, you know? So that it works? So we can know what to expect?"

Harry's eyes lit up when he caught the gist of her babbling. "Like rules, you mean." He looked delighted that Ginny was apparently agreeing with his idea.

And Ginny wasn't disagreeing. Part of her (the part that had been getting quite a bit of attention lately), was already tingling. She just wanted to make sure they were actually both on the same page, first.

"Well, yeah. like rules," she said. "Or something." She shrugged. "I don't exactly know where to start, though. I mean, it's not like I've ever done this before."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "And I have?" He grinned. "It'll be easy. We already know enough about each other, like our work schedules and habits, things like that. And it's not like . . . I mean, we both agree that there are no strings attached, right? This is just for fun. Between friends. Who like to . . . have sex with each other occasionally. Or more often."

"I think it's called being 'friends with benefits'" said Ginny. "And yeah. No strings attached. Just for fun." She paused. "But what does that mean, exactly?"

Harry pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, for one, I think it means that we don't tell anyone – especially our friends and families, what we are doing. We don't need the pressure, you know?"

Ginny wholeheartedly agreed with that. If her mum got even a hint that she and Harry had been spending any time together, hell, she'd probably invite them to the Burrow to have sex and set the silencing charms herself, as long as they promised to get married immediately afterwards. And Ron and Hermione would be impossible in their own ways. Secret was better.

Ginny didn't really count the fact that some of her teammates knew, given hers and Harry's not so subtle trip into the loo. But they wouldn't talk. It was kind of understood. They might rib Ginny herself, but that was it.

"Right," said Ginny. "And how about . . . it's just for sex. I mean, I don't expect you to take me out on dates or anything like that. It would kind of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"Right," Harry agreed after a moment. "Just sex." He furrowed his brow, thinking. "And how about . . . something about how we can't interfere with the other's work? Like, I won't come down to see you after a Harpies match and expect you to go off and have sex with me instead of celebrating with your team."

This made Ginny pause. Having sex with Harry after the Harpies won a game had been something she had usually looked forward to, when they were dating. The excitement in the air, the sweat, the adrenaline rush, not to mention the fact that they almost never made it all the way home first, had made most of those encounters hot. But . . . if they relaxed that rule, Harry would probably feel compelled to let her come to his office or something. She nodded in agreement.

"Just like I won't come visit you at your office," said Ginny. Then she giggled. "But, remember when I did that? Disguised to look like someone from Magical Maintenance to fix the enchanted window in your office?"

Harry swallowed. "Yeah . . . I remember that," he said thickly. "That was actually . . . well, I wouldn't . . . I mean, that kind of thing could still be included, don't you think? Once in a while?"

Relief flooded through Ginny. "Yeah. Once in a while. After matches too. If we happen to be in the same place. And . . .as long as . . . how about, as long as we don't plan it ahead of time, and if it's a bad time, we just go our separate ways, no questions?"

Harry nodded firmly. "Right. No questions asked." He looked confused for a moment. "So that means we can't just call each other for sex, right?"

Ginny smirked. "How do you think Kingsley would feel if my Patronus appeared in the middle of a meeting asking you to meet me in the Atrium in ten minutes, and, oh yeah, make sure you're not wearing anything under your robes?"

"Right," said Harry. "No calling. It has to be spontaneous. And . . . I guess, well . . ." He looked at Ginny. "It seems like we're agreeing that we're mostly going to be . . . you know, in, umm, locations, where we could be discovered, right?"

Remembering the woods, Ginny clenched her thighs together. She loved having sex outside. "Right. Should that be a rule?"

"Well, not a rule, exactly," said Harry slowly, "but I think we probably should agree to keep most of our clothes on, more or less. I mean, obviously it's better for you if you aren't naked in a public place. You have more to, umm, hide." He blushed. "It's pretty easy for me to just, well, unzip . . . and, well, you have to . . . unless you're wearing a skirt. Without knickers," he amended. "Not that I think you should . . . I mean," he added hastily. "You look great in pants too! And you can wear whatever knickers you want! I didn't mean to say . . . oh buggers."

Ginny couldn't help but laugh at him. "It's okay, Harry. I get it. No total nudity, knickers optional."

He smiled sheepishly. "I'm making this difficult, aren't I?"

"Not yet." Ginny bit her lip. One part of her brain had been whirling with thought the entire time she and Harry had been talking, considering and rejecting various scenarios. Some of them were fun, (sex in the Ministry of Magic?) but at the same time, she couldn't ignore the memories (because there were still plenty of them there), of previous times she and Harry had been together. It didn't hurt, exactly, to think of them, not anymore, but at the same time, she didn't really want to remember their very first time making love (in his flat, by candlelight, the night after Remus and Tonks' funeral), or consider going back to Hogwarts and finally having sex in the Room of Requirement. She and Harry had often discussed, in some detail, how they'd want to Room to look when they got there, but nothing had ever come of it.

 _So yes, there were a few things that needed to be said._

"I think we need to avoid discussing our past. Together, I mean," she said firmly. "Except maybe as it relates to what we like . . . physically. We need to treat what we're doing now as totally new."

To her surprise, Harry agreed almost immediately, and strongly. "Yes. Right. The past is off-limits." He had a kind of strange look on his face when he spoke; his eyes looked far away, as if he was trying to remember something, and Ginny wondered, briefly, if he was thinking about some past time together as well. Then he shook his head and smiled. "Okay, we're doing good. I think we're about there." He frowned. "Except . . ."

"What?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Look, I know we both already admitted that we haven't . . . or even _wanted_ to . . . with anyone else. Since we broke up. Right?"

"Right," agreed Ginny, wondering where he was going.

"Well, umm, it probably goes without saying, and, I know that I won't want to . . . with anyone else, but I think it should be clear anyway . . . even though there are no strings attached, we probably shouldn't be . . ."

"Ohhhh," said Ginny. "No, I agree. No sex with anyone else while we're . . ." – she gestured between them with her hand – "you know."

 _But Harry has to attend functions for work,_ Ginny thought suddenly to herself. Functions where a date might be required, or at least recommended. She had been to a few of those herself, when they had been dating and it seemed like every time he turned around, Harry was being honored as the "Savior of the Wizarding World." She frowned to herself, unable to stop from wondering who he had been taking with him these last months.

"Although, if you needed to, you know, ask someone else out, for work . . ." began Ginny slowly.

"Or if _you_ wanted to," interjected Harry. "Like for that Quidditch awards dinner they have every year . . ." His voice trailed off and he bit his lip. Ginny was still.

"I mean, we did say 'no strings attached,' right?" asked Harry, hesitantly.

Ginny nodded, almost to herself. "I took Charlie to the last awards dinner," she said quietly, looking down at the table.

"They had a big statue unveiling ceremony and party in Godric's Hollow last month." Harry wasn't looking at her as he spoke, and Ginny didn't ask. Then,

"I went for the ceremony only. By myself," Harry admitted, giving her a wry smile. "So I guess we're even."

Ginny let out a breath. "Well. Okay then." She paused. "Anything else?"

Harry smiled. "I think that covers it." He took a big drink from his pint. "Wow," he said. "I didn't think . . . you know."

Ginny did know. "Yeah," she said. "I think this could work for us."


	5. Just Friends

Harry was trying to figure out a way to suggest that he and Ginny see each other one more time before she began her road trip (without breaking any of the rules, of course), when they were interrupted by Leandra sliding into the booth, next to Ginny. Her eyes were bright and mischievous and it was clear she'd had more than a bit to drink.

"Soooo," she drawled suggestively. "Isn't this cozy?" She waggled her eyebrows. "What's up, Ginny? Has the Chosen One, chosen you?"

Ginny groaned and looked at Harry with an apology in her eyes. "She's usually not like this, I promise."

Harry just grinned back. He was in a pretty good mood, just now, and that made Leandra's jokes amusing, not annoying. Plus, he had a bit of dirt on her. He leaned forward.

"You know, Gavin was asking me about you, the other day. Wondering if you were free again anytime soon."

Leandra rolled her eyes. "Him again? Oi. He was cute, but kind of inexperienced. I need someone with a bit more . . . oompf." She smirked at Harry.

"You know, someone who's not afraid to let loose in a public place."

 _Yep, just crossed the line._ Harry was about to close down that avenue of conversation when a silver lynx suddenly dropped onto the table in front of him. Leandra squeaked and jumped out of the way.

Automatically, Harry threw up a Silencing Charm around the booth as Kingsley's Patronus began to speak.

"Potter – I need you at the apothecary in Diagon Alley. Can't say more now. Just get there."

Ginny sighed, then smirked. "Glad that message didn't arrive about an hour ago, I have to say."

Harry started to apologize for having to leave so quickly, but Ginny put her hand on his arm and gave it a push. "Harry, it's okay – I understand. You need to go, so . . . go."

Harry felt like there was more he had to say; he wasn't sure they had worked out everything they needed to, between them, but there just wasn't time.

"I'll be in touch, Ginny, I promise. Just as soon . . ."

"Just as soon as I'm back in town and you don't have to run off and save the day," Ginny nodded. "I know, Harry. I . . . I have a lot going on right now too. And I think what we decided, well, it's for the best." She smiled. "Better even."

Harry smiled too. "I'll see you soon."

HPHPHPHPHP

Kingsley needed Harry at the Apothecary because the owner had just discovered that several boxes of potions ingredients had been broken into, and a number of things were missing. The owner had no idea when the theft had occurred because the boxes had been resealed and shunted to the back of the storeroom. Harry checked the area for magical signatures but he really couldn't find much useful information; Diagon Alley was the site of so much random magic that finding any particular spell or incident was difficult unless the charm used was particularly unusual. But the ingredients stolen were consistent with both Muddling Gas and Stinging Spray, and so Kingsley was heavily interested in figuring out who might have broken into the shop.

It was only much later that evening that Harry was able to reflect at all on the events at the pub. Ron and Hermione had been at the flat when it got home and the three of them had eaten dinner together. As usual, Hermione ribbed him gently about finding a girlfriend. Ron, also characteristically, was silent on the subject; Harry knew that his best mate had still not entirely forgiven Harry – or Ginny, for that matter, for breaking up. Whenever they were all together at the Burrow for a meal, Harry suspected that Ron orchestrated ways to get Harry and Ginny alone together. Once, he had suggested a game of two-a-side Quidditch and then engaged Hermione in such a snog out in the orchard that she barely knew her own name, let alone how to fly a broom. Harry and Ginny had flown by themselves for a short while, but Harry had suspected that the last thing Ginny wanted to do on her day off was fly some more, so they had soon gone back inside to help Mrs. Weasley prepare for tea.

Their break up had been uncomfortable, but not terrible, which was why, Harry suspected, everyone else seemed to have such a difficult time accepting it. But they had done the right thing, even if no one else could see it.

When Ron asked him about the breakup, only weeks later, Harry was sure in his answer: he hadn't wanted to tie Ginny down during her early years on the Harpies; the only player with a serious boyfriend among a closely knit team that reveled in going out and having fun. Harry was certain that Ginny would be missing out, spending her free time with him instead of with the other players, and he hated watching her have to divide her time. He knew she would never say anything to him about it either. How could he get in the way of her dreams?

And Ginny was as busy as ever now that the new Quidditch season was fully underway. She was now a first string Chaser, not merely a reserve, and had to find time not only for practices, but also the public relations work that was expected of all players. It was a busy life, which was probably why most players never got involved in serious relationships. Casual flirting and one-night-stands were the norm.

But not with Ginny, apparently. When he finally took the time to think about it, Harry had to admit to himself that he was glad Ginny was not running around, tumbling into bed with a new bloke every week. It just wasn't her. Ginny needed more of a connection in her relationships, just like he did; sex, alone, wasn't enough. It was lucky they had reconnected the way they had, actually. Friends with benefits. Perfect.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny spent the rest of the time at the pub hanging out with Evie and Kennedy; neither of them had seen her emerge from the loo with Harry, so she was able to spend a comfortable hour talking about nothing in particular. But when the team was walking back to the group of flats where they lived, Leandra sidled up to Ginny and linked arms with her. Unfortunately, the other Chaser appeared to be at the exact stage of drunkenness that made her completely uninhibited in her questioning. Another drink or two, Ginny reflected, and Leandra probably wouldn't have been able to focus nearly as well.

"So . . ." began Leandra, without a hint of slur to her words. "You and Harry Potter, hmmm? Didn't you say you used to go out? Didn't look very _used to_ when you were coming out of the Gent's adjusting your skirt."

Ginny blushed and wondered for longer was probably proper whether it would be grounds for dismissal from the team if she just Obliviated Leandra now.

"We're just friends," said Ginny firmly.

Leandra snorted. "Yeah, right. Friends with benefits it looked like, to me." She peered at Ginny's face. "Is he as good as he looks?"

"Leandra! It's nothing," said Ginny. "We had a very . . . friendly break up."

"Not that I blame you for shagging him." Leandra rambled on as if Ginny had not spoken. "He's bloody gorgeous."

"That has nothing to do with it," said Ginny, irritated. "Anyway, I told you, we're just friends. Harry is way too busy to think about a relationship right now." She sighed, thinking about how Kingsley had interrupted them. "Being a top Auror is too important to him, and there's no way he can continue to work on the best and most interesting cases if got involved with anyone."

"Hmpf," said Leandra. "Whatever." She looked coyly at Ginny. "So, are you and Harry going to do 'nothing' again? Cause, if you're not, well . . ." Her voice trailed off suggestively.

"Forget it, Leandra," said Ginny. "Harry's not interested in meaningless sex."

Leandra's eyes opened wider. "Really? Well then what . . .?"

Fortunately, they had reached their flat at that point and Leandra's question was drowned out in the opening of the wards and the general silliness of their other roommates.

Ginny groaned to herself. That had come out all wrong, but Leandra had been annoying her. She stomped to her room and roughly pulled off her sweater and kicked off her skirt. Her knickers were still damp, and she her legs tightened again at the memory of Harry thrusting into her.

At least she understood what she'd meant to Leandra, even if the other girl would blow everything out of proportion. The crystal phial was there, sitting innocently on her bookshelf, next to a framed picture of her family; only Ginny could see the charms around it that kept it from being accidentally broken. The phial was her protection. She knew Harry still cared about her; he wouldn't have had sex with her otherwise. Just like she wouldn't have had sex with him if there hadn't been some feelings. But it didn't really change anything between them, other than to ease some of the physical ache ten months of celibacy had wrought.

Ginny had seen how much Harry was missing out, taking the tamer cases, spending more time with her instead of going on extra training missions or hanging out with the other recruits, and she hated watching him have to divide his time that way. Their current solution was the best for both of them. And they were simply good friends, no matter what drunk Leandra might think otherwise.

A week later, Ginny was more than relieved that the Harpies' game schedule was keeping them so busy; as it was, Leandra seemed to find too many opportunities to question Ginny about Harry and hinting that she'd be more than happy to share a loo with him if Ginny didn't want to. Ginny really did not feel like enlightening Leandra about the rules she and Harry had worked out, and was getting tired of repeating herself, that she and Harry were just friends. She chose other roommates whenever she could while they traveled to play against other teams and tried not to think about when she might actually see Harry again. The randiness that had been held at bay while she and Harry trysted in the woods and loo was now back, and Ginny was afraid her teammates would start complaining about the length of her showers.

Ginny was walking back from a workout at the Tornados' guest training room when she ran into Gwenog and the Harpies' owner arguing with a man from the Tornado's management. Someone had broken into the storage room where opponents' equipment (currently, the Harpies' equipment) was kept. Although nothing seemed to be missing, Gwenog feared that her players' brooms had been cursed, or worse. She was demanding that the game between the two teams be postponed until every broom and ball could be checked for Dark magic.

"There's no need to postpone the game," the Tornado's manager said. "I've spoken to the Ministry of Magic and they are sending an Auror here immediately. One of their best, someone very familiar with Quidditch and flying. Someone with a lot of experience with Dark magic, too."

Ginny's heart quickened. A second later, she was ashamed of herself. _Even if it is Harry, he's going to be busy working. Our next match depends on it._ Still, she couldn't help but look towards the equipment shed, wondering who the Auror would be.

An hour later, Ginny and the rest of the team were summoned to one of the Tornados' practice fields. Unlike the Harpies' training area, which was surrounded by woods and fairly private, the Tornados' stadium and practice facilities were close to a small farming village. Only a number of Muggle repelling charms kept the locals away from the area - which appeared to be a rather unkempt pasture, surrounded by a stone fence - to non-magical people.

Gwenog was standing with several Harpies trainers and the same Tornados' manager Ginny had seen earlier. And between them, unmistakable in his Auror's robes and looking rather tense, was Harry.

Ginny assumed it was her imagination, but Harry's stance seemed to relax when he caught sight of her. He flashed her a quick smile and then turned his attention to Gwenog.

"I need each player to fly her broom for me. A circuit around the pitch and then a couple of maneuvers typical for their specific position. I'll be up in the air too, in case anything happens."

Gwenog was not happy. "Do they have to fly high?"

Harry looked apologetic, but firm. "Yes. We need to simulate a real in-game broom flight as much as possible. It's the only way to be sure they will be safe to fly in a regular match."

He turned to the players. His eye caught Ginny's for the barest second, and he had an unreadable expression on his face as he shrugged off his Auror's robes; beneath them he was wearing a practice Quidditch uniform that Ginny recognized from Hogwarts. She swallowed hard. Harry, in his Quidditch clothing, was undeniably sexy. He ignored the fact that several of the players were murmuring appreciatively at the sight and turned to survey them as a group, completely professional. "Okay, who's first?"

Most of Ginny's teammates shrunk back; the prospect of flying a cursed broom was not appealing. A couple players looked actually terrified. Ginny kept her expression neutral; Leandra was standing right next to her, smirking at her, and it was keeping Ginny from volunteering to go first. Which, of course, only made her annoyed with herself.

 _Just look at him! Who cares what Leandra thinks?_ But the blonde Chaser beat her to it. She pushed forward out of the group and gave Harry a big smile.

"I'm not afraid to go first," she said. "I know you'll catch me if I fall, right Harry?" She knocked her arm lightly against his.

Harry glanced at Ginny, then back down at Leandra. "No one is going to fall," he said firmly. "Just fly the way you normally do and everything will be fine."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Potter," drawled Leandra. This time she bumped her hip against his. "I've heard a lot about your skills with a broom," she quipped. "Let's see if they're true."

Ginny groaned to herself. Was she serious? Harry's face was a mask of professionalism, but when he caught Ginny's eye she was certain she could see a smirk looming beneath his features. A second later, she had to stifle a grin, as Harry turned to Leandra and gave her a look Ginny hadn't seen on his face in years – not since Romilda Vane had spent all of Harry's Sixth Year falling all over herself trying fruitlessly to flirt with him.

When Leandra and Harry landed a couple of minutes later, Harry made no pretense of looking at the other players. He held out his hand. "Ginny, why don't you go next?"

They didn't speak up in the air, but Ginny felt Harry's eyes on her as she swerved in and out around the goals. He kept up with her the entire time, and her body heated beneath her uniform as she watched him fly out of the corner of her eye. When they finally landed and Harry called the third Chaser into the air, Leandra was looking at her with a slightly calculating expression on her face.

"You were up there a long time."

Ginny shrugged. "No longer than you."

Most of the other players left the field after Harry pronounced their brooms safe. Ginny supposed she could have left too, but Leandra was still there, watching with Gwenog and a couple of trainers, so Ginny stayed. After the final reserve player landed, Harry motioned to a couple of maintenance workers, who carried over a crate containing their practice balls.

"I need to check the Quaffle and Bludgers," he said, looking around. "Where are your Beaters?"

But all the Beaters had left. He glanced at Ginny, and then at everyone else. "Umm, does someone want to help me test out the Bludgers?" He didn't even wait for an answer, but looked straight at Ginny, his face falling into an easy, familiar grin.

"Come on, Gin, haven't you always wanted the chance to knock me out of the sky?"

Ginny had just opened her mouth to respond, "you're on, Potter," when Leandra moved next to her, clutching her own broom.

"Come on, you'll go way too easy on Ginny, Harry. You need someone up there who's going to be more of a challenge. Put you through your paces, if you know what I mean." She waggled her eyebrows at him. "Hmmm? What do you think?"

Ginny watched as Harry turned four shades of red and swallowed hard. As a result of his reluctance celebrity status, he had been on the receiving end of overly aggressive women for years. They used to turn him into a stammering, stuttering bundle of nerves, and his inherent decency had made his loathe to turn down even the more ridiculous requests for extra photos, autographs (on body parts!), and acceptance of phone numbers written on knickers. The latter he'd always shown, embarrassed, to Ginny before tossing them in the fire. Ginny scowled at Leandra. Harry wouldn't want to hurt her feelings by saying no.

"Ohh . . . ummmm . . . .well," Harry began. He took a deep breath. "Actually, I think Ginny would be the best for me. I mean," he added hastily, "she would be the best for me to fly with. Because I'm familiar with the way she uses a broom. In the air." He turned red again. "When she, umm, flies," he finished weakly. He turned towards Ginny and she could see the begging question in his eyes. "All right, Gin?"

Ginny nodded and grabbed her broom. She gave Leandra a tiny, apologetic smile as she walked by, but the other girl didn't seem particularly angry. Instead, she had an intrigued, rather calculating look on her face, which relaxed back into a suggestive smile as she patted Ginny on the back.

Harry's easy smile was back (with more than a little relief in it), when Ginny came to stand before him. "Let's get up in the air; one of the maintenance guys will release the Bludger."

He picked up a Beater's bat and handed it to her; his hand brushed hers and lingered a moment and Ginny shivered. Harry's eyes were suddenly dark and Ginny couldn't look away. After a second, he shuddered himself and then smiled at her.

"Okay. Yes." He gestured to their brooms. "Shall we?"


	6. With Benefits

Harry kept himself low on his broom, trying to figure out if he'd broken out of the Quidditch field's enchanted airspace and was now in an area where Muggles could see him. The Bludger was whizzing back and forth behind him, but he didn't dare swerve too far out of its path because he feared it would latch onto Ginny again. She was still close behind him and he vaguely heard her calling spells, trying to stop the ball. He wanted to yell at her to turn around and go back, but it was taking all his concentration to keep from being knocked off his broom. He had dropped his Beater's Bat when the ball had suddenly rounded on Ginny and now he was simply flying as fast as he could away from it.

Harry was more than uncomfortably reminded of second year, when another enchanted Bludger had chased him until he ended up breaking his arm. And then losing all the bones in it. He only hoped this ending would be less painful.

Ahead, he saw what looked like an open field and he began to gently arc himself in that direction, hoping that maybe he could figure out a way to land and then roll on top of the Bludger. He glanced back again, to check the progress of the Bludger and make sure Ginny was still okay, and completely missed the fact that the field sloped away down a hill.

By the time Harry looked back in front of him, he couldn't swerve fast enough to completely avoid the trees that suddenly loomed up ahead. He heard Ginny yell, but it was too late; the Bludger slammed into his back and knocked Harry into a large branch about fifteen feet off the ground. The impact must have broken the charm on the ball because it stopped short and fell to the ground like a brick.

Unfortunately, so did Harry. But he caught a couple of lower branches on his way down before he finally landed on his side under the tree.

For two long moments, he couldn't breathe; the force of the impact had knocked the wind out of him. After another minute, he caught his breath and wished he hadn't; every inch of him ached. His arms and the side of his face stung from where the branches had scraped the skin raw and he felt more than one trickle of blood on his face.

Reflexively, Harry wiggled his body and tried tensing his muscles – it was ingrained in him as an Auror to assess his injuries as soon as possible so to determine if he was able to continue the chase, escape if necessary, or instead needed to try to Disillusion himself.

Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken. Tomorrow he was going to be one, big bruise.

Slowly, Harry sat up, closing his eyes when the light started to blink and pop and his head began to spin. _Bad idea_. He began to lower himself back to a prone position, keeping his eyes closed.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice was suddenly right next to his and he felt her cool hand brush across his forehead. Her other arm was behind his back, supporting him as she helped him lay flat again. She spoke calmly, but the high pitch of her voice betrayed the fear lying just below the surface of her words.

"You disappeared all of a sudden and I couldn't see you when you dropped down behind that hill. The sun was in my eyes and when I finally realized you were not in front of me I couldn't figure out where you'd gone. Thank Merlin I found you so fast." Harry felt her other hand join the first on his face, and he leaned into the coolness.

"Can you open your eyes?"

"Yeah. Give me a minute." Harry swallowed hard until the dizziness passed and then looked up at her. She was leaning over him, biting her lower lip, but the tense look in her eyes eased a bit when she saw him open his.

"You're a mess. Is anything broken?" Her hand brushed down his cheek, wiping away a trickle of blood. Harry shuddered, and Ginny's hand froze.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt?"

"Everything hurts," Harry admitted. "But I don't think anything's broken. And . . . no. That felt good. Your hand, I mean."

"You have some nasty scrapes," said Ginny. Harry felt her hand on his shoulder, tugging at the fabric of his shirt, which seemed to be falling away awfully easily. "This is completely ruined." Harry felt a cool breeze on his skin and a second later Ginny traced down his chest, following a gentle pattern across his ribs and down to Harry's hip. "You must have hit the tree branch straight on – the bruise covers half your torso." Her thumb rubbed across Harry's stomach and he shuddered again. "Do you want me to try to heal some of this? I know a bit of first aid."

"Yes, please." Harry said thickly. The aches in his muscles were becoming more pronounced and he felt more than one stinging cut on his skin. But he would have asked her to heal him even if he'd been in no pain at all, just so she would keep touching him like that.

Ginny shifted next to him so that she was sitting cross legged at his head. Her hands were back up at his face, one gently brushing back his fringe of hair and the other cupping his cheek. "I think I need to clean off the blood first. If I use Tergeo I'll end up poking the bruises too much. Hold on." A second later she had ripped away a piece of Harry's ruined shirt.

Harry heard her mutter the Augmenti charm and then he felt her brush the cool dampness across his forehead and down his cheek. He couldn't help wincing a bit; even with Ginny being as gentle as she could, it still stung. But then Ginny's fingers were pressing lightly along Harry's cheek and down to his jaw, probing softly, and Harry sighed. "Does that hurt?" she asked.

Hurt was the farthest thing from Harry's mind at that moment. Ginny was so close that her hair was brushing across his chest, and her breath raised goosebumps on his skin.

"No. Doesn't . . . hurt," he managed to gasp. He looked up into Ginny's face. She was staring at him with wide eyes, and as Harry watched, she swallowed hard, and he saw the barest flicker of her tongue as it suddenly darted out across her lips.

"That's good," she whispered. Her hands flitted above him as if she was suddenly not sure where they should go. "Let me . . . ummm . . . this arm is scraped up too," she finally said.

Ginny threaded her fingers in his and lifted Harry's hand into her lap. Lightly, her hand traced up and down his arm, and Harry heard her murmuring healing spells. With each place she touched, his skin got cooler for a second and then tingled with warmth. Slowly, the sting faded away, but Harry couldn't stop himself from shivering anyway as Ginny's hand traveled the length of his arm once more – from shoulder down to the tips of his fingers, with the barest of pressure.

Harry closed his eyes as Ginny's hands found his torso again, ghosting across the muscles of his stomach. He tensed automatically, then groaned as the bruising ache coursed through him.

Ginny's voice was quiet in his ear. "This is going to hurt a little more, I think,"

"S'okay," said Harry heavily, his eyes still closed. His limbs felt heavy, and he didn't want to move. He felt Ginny scoot down towards his waist and he held his breath in anticipation of the feel of her soft hand running over his skin. He barely heard her next whisper.

"I'll try to make it as painless as possible."

And then her mouth was on his chest, feathering softness over his skin right behind the cooling and warmth of her healing charms. Her hands were moving lower, caressing his bruised skin as the magic sunk into his muscles and bones, dulling the ache in them.

Harry groaned softly to himself as Ginny's lips and tongue moved to his stomach and one hand brushed gently through the thatch of dark hair that disappeared into his pants. He had no idea anymore if he still felt pain; his entire body was alive with want, and the throbbing in his limbs only fueled his desire.

He shifted under her mouth; now that much of the pain was gone, Harry was no longer able to hide his arousal. "Ginny . . ." he began, hoarsely.

Ginny's hand brushed across his erection. Her lips paused in their journey towards his hip and Harry felt her breath coming in faster, warm gasps against his skin.

"What . . . do the . . . rules say about . . . interrupting work if you're hurt?" Her voice was rough, her breathing as ragged as his. She brushed her hand against him again and then stopped right on top of the swelling bulge in his pants.

"I mean," she panted. "Is that one of the exceptions to not visiting you at your office?"

"I'm not at my office," mumbled Harry. He tried to gather his thoughts, but his brain wouldn't focus when Ginny's hand grew more forceful, grasping him firmly and pushing down. "Ohhh," he sighed. "I . . . think it counts as . . . being spontaneous."

"I think . . . I should check your legs," mumbled Ginny against his hip. "How do they feel?"

"They're . . . tingling," said Harry honestly. His whole body was tingling now.

"You shouldn't move," said Ginny, her hand now slowly moving at the waist of Harry's track pants. "The healing charms need to set."

Harry couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to. The heaviness in his arms and legs had spread to the rest of his body, but it wasn't numbing. Instead, he was barely aware of them anymore; they were nothing more than anchors holding onto the desire that surged through his belly and down between his legs.

Ginny eased down his pants until they were bunched around his ankles. She paused for a long moment at the waistband of his boxers before gently slipping her hand inside and caressing his length. Harry jerked involuntarily and hissed in pain as his muscles protested. Ginny froze, and then withdrew her hand.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea, right now," she said.

"No, it's fine," Harry replied quickly. "It's helping. I promise. I'll keep still."

Ginny still looked doubtful and Harry captured one of her hands in his. "Please," he said. "It . . . . feels really good. Even with the pain." He squeezed her hand. "It makes the pain . . . bearable."

Ginny nodded at him, then smiled. "Just try to keep still."

She put her hand back, but on top of his boxers this time, rubbing gently. Then she leaned down and her tongue found the crease between his stomach and hip; she slowly worked her way lower, pushing down the fabric as she did so, until Harry's boxers no longer covered anything of importance.

Ginny looked up from her ministrations. "This doesn't count as 'fully naked', does it?" Her tongue dipped lower and flicked against his balls and Harry couldn't answer her other than to mumbled a garbled, "Muh uhh."

Ginny must have understood Harry's attempt to say "no", because she pushed Harry's boxers all the way down past his knees and then moved to kneel between his legs. She put both hand on his penis and held them there for several seconds until his trembling eased.

"Relax," she said, beginning to run her hands up and down his length. "And don't move."

Harry forced himself to stay still as her hands slowly found their rhythm against him. She worked slowly, her soft hands firm but not frantic on him, allowing him to get used to each new sensation slowly before she increased her speed or changed her position.

Her thumb brushed gently across his tip and then circled the head and Harry shivered in enjoyment. She worked her hands down his length, constricting them as his arousal grew, grasping his base with a new pressure. Harry groaned to himself. This made hitting the tree worth it.

The minor throbs of ache Harry felt whenever some new jolt of pleasure moved through him barely bothered him at all; he'd never been attended to so carefully before, and the chance to be able to focus on every minute detail of Ginny's hands on him was delicious. His own hands found her hair but instead of tangling them in her tresses he stroked as gently as she did, running his hands lightly over her head and then down her face. He tilted her chin up so he could look at her. Ginny's face was flushed and her teeth captured her bottom lip as she stared back at him, not speaking. Her hands did not stop their pulsing, up and down, and Harry was finding it harder and harder not to thrust back. Ginny gave his penis a particularly firm stroke and Harry groaned with the pleasure of it, lifting his hips just enough to push against her hand.

Her eyes sparkled then and she raised her eyebrows before finally breaking eye contact with Harry and lowering her head to his waist. One hand left him and moved to cup his sac and Harry stilled until he felt Ginny's warm, soft mouth enclose him completely.

"Ahhhh," he groaned as she began to move up and down again, one hand still at the base, guiding him as she moved him inside her mouth and down almost into her throat. Harry propped himself up on one arm to watch. There was almost nothing as sexy as the sight of Ginny's head between his legs; red hair mingling with black, his penis bobbing in and out of sight as she moved above him.

Harry had been hardening slowly under Ginny's hand, but once he was in her mouth his erection grew with almost forceful intensity and he couldn't stop himself from pushing up into her. Ginny had stretched herself out and was pushing her own center against Harry's leg and as he watched, feeling his own pleasure mounting almost to the brink.

Dimly, Harry registered that maybe there was something else he should be doing, but then Ginny pulled back to purse her lips against the head of his penis, pushing her head down and letting him force her mouth open wide enough for him to enter. The thought flew right out of his mind and it took him long seconds to get it back.

"Wait, Ginny," he finally gasped beneath her.

Ginny stopped and looked up, concerned. "Is it too much? Am I hurting you?" she asked.

"No . . . it's wonderful. I just wondered . . . do you want to . . . you know? Cause I don't think it will hurt too much, if you're on top."

A memory flitted through his mind with his words. He'd always loved it when Ginny was on top when they had sex; it had become something of a joke between them, with Harry trying to come up with funnier and stranger reasons to be on the bottom. He had spent plenty of time on top himself, but the equality hadn't stopped them from always laughing about Harry's newest plan.

An instant of . . . something flashed across Ginny's features and Harry knew she was remembering too. A second later the smile was back though, and Ginny gave him a knowing look.

"So this is your newest plan to get me on top, huh, Potter? Crashing into a bloody tree?"

Harry shrugged and tried to look pathetic. "Well, whatever works, right?" He turned serious. "But only if you want to."

Ginny was already pushing down her own track pants and knickers, kicking them to one side. "Oh, I definitely want to. Lean back," she said authoritatively, pushing lightly on his chest until he was flat again on the ground. She straddled his waist, one hand buried in her curls and rubbing lightly. She must have gotten close to ready while performing fellatio because after less than a minute, she raised herself up until she was able to position the tip of Harry penis at her opening. Grasping it in her hand, she made a few light swipes around her folds before sighing and lowering herself onto him.

Harry sighed too; it felt so good. And Ginny was moving up and down, her hands splayed on his chest, pushing down hard and then stopping, rocking her pelvis with the tiniest of movements until he felt almost wild with ecstasy. Slowly, he began to rock his own hips, rising up to meet her downward thrusts. His hands moved up to grab both of hers, interlocking their fingers and pushing their palms against each other.

"Are . . . you . . . in pain?" Ginny panted. Her eyes were dilated and her hair tousled around her head and for a moment, Harry was struck by how very . . . beautiful . . .she looked. Get a grip, Potter, he told himself. He concentrated on the sensation of Ginny moving up and down around him.

"Not even a little," he managed. "But . . . I'm close."

In response, Ginny loosened on of her hands and moved it down to her clit, rubbing in circles and moaning lightly, even as her thrusts became faster and harder. Harry tensed every muscle in his body, using the immediate ache to help him focus on anything except his pending climax.

"Please . . . Ginny . . . Oh Merlin . . ." He didn't think he was going to be able to hold on, but suddenly Ginny groaned and Harry felt her thighs clench around him in a familiar rhythm and he let go.

Ginny collapsed on his chest; from where he lay, Harry could see her head rising and falling with each of his breaths. But just as he was going to wrap his arms around her and enjoy the weight, she gingerly rolled off him and grabbed her wand. She first waved it in the complex pattern he knew was the contraceptive spell for "immediately after," then, she cleaned them both off and pulled up her knickers and pants.

"Do you need help? How do you feel?" she asked.

Harry still didn't want to move. "I feel . . . pretty wonderful," he admitted, enjoying the smile that flitted across Ginny's face.

"Me too," she said. But then she bit her lip and looked behind where Harry lay. "But, don't you, umm, need to do . . . something, with that Bludger? She pointed, and Harry twisted around to see the ball, still laying quietly about a foot away.

"Right. I do. I do need to do . . . something, with it." Harry wasn't used to having to think so much after sex. But Ginny was right. He wasn't seriously hurt, and Kingsley needed to know what had happened. With a quiet groan, he let Ginny pull him to his feet. He was stiff, but not terribly so.

"Your healing charms are working," he commented as they walked to where their brooms lay. Miraculously, his had not been seriously damaged by the crash. "I barely feel a thing."

"Maybe it wasn't just the charms," Ginny said coyly, before throwing her leg over her broom and lifting off into the sky.

 _Definitely not just the charms_ , Harry thought to himself, following her.


	7. After the Fall

A/N: So this is the first chapter with actual new content in it; I decided that a few of Harry and Ginny's trysts needed a bit more detail. :) There will be other additions in the future. Enjoy and review!

Harry pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to massage away the pain. Three days after his accident his head was still sore, particularly as Ginny's healing charms had worn off completely. He shook his head and focused his attention back on Kingsley, who was discussing a series of odd incidents with his more senior Aurors.

". . . and the Cannons' assistant trainer has not been able to return to work yet," he was saying. "The team finally had to hire a replacement."

"What's he talking about?" Harry poked the Auror sitting next to him. "What happened to the Cannons' trainer?"

"Assistant trainer," Scott Meyers whispered back. "He was stung by a plant that arrived in a shipment of what was supposed to be tropical Sting-free roots – you know, a lot of players rub the sap on cuts and scrapes and things because it dries really fast. He reached his hand into the box and the next thing they knew, he was on the ground, unconscious. He's still in St. Mungo's and they haven't figured out what kind of plant stung him – it shriveled up immediately."

Harry frowned. There seemed to be more and more suspicious activity going on, and all of it centered around the country's professional Quidditch teams. As much as Harry didn't like the idea of Dark wizards stalking anyone, he especially wasn't happy that they had chosen to target Quidditch. He made a mental note to tell Ginny to be extra careful, and to keep her wand with her at all times, the next time he saw her.

He didn't know when that would be, though. The Harpies were still on their road trip, playing the Wimbourne Wasps in two days. Kingsley hadn't said anything about assigning anyone to safeguard the match and Harry wondered idly if he should volunteer. Then he'd be able to warn Ginny in person. Not that she needed warning, of course. Ginny could more than take care of herself. And himself, for that matter. Harry shivered just a bit in his robes, remembering.

It was probably not a good idea to go see Ginny right now, Harry reluctantly concluded. The upcoming match was an important one and she needed to be able to concentrate on playing, without any . . . distractions.

 _Although, Dark Wizards attacking are definitely a distraction she doesn't need either._ He shifted in his seat, half a mind to ask Kingsley if he could work the Harpies' match, when the man began calling out assignments.

"Potter, Meyers, Singleton, you and trainees Gavin Sykes, Carey Daniels and Joseph Becker are assigned to the Harpies." Harry sighed in relief. He wouldn't have to ask. But Kingsley continued, the barest hint of a smirk on his face.

"That assumes, of course, that you can manage to spend more than two hours with them without getting hit by a Bludger or sprayed with poison, okay Potter?"

Harry blushed, wondering if Kingsley had any idea what else he'd gotten hit by in the past few days. He didn't think anyone knew about his and Ginny's "arrangement", and for both of their sakes, he wanted to keep it that way.

HPHPHPHPHP

Four weeks later, their "arrangement" had become something of a pleasant routine, Ginny thought to herself as she ran up and down the steps at the Harpies' stadium. For despite their busy schedules, having Harry assigned to the Harpies had resulted in quite a few opportunities for Harry and Ginny to "accidentally" run into each other. Even though none of her teammates were around, Ginny blushed as she remembered a recent run, this time to the upper reaches of the Tornado's stadium during another workout.

 _Ginny bent over to catch her breath. She was well ahead of the rest of her teammates, nearly halfway around the other side of the stadium from where they were all running slowly up and down the steps. Ginny had come out early with the intent of making the entire way around the stands instead of the twelve flights Gwenog had set, and so far, she was feeling good. She massaged one calf and was quietly counting how many rows she'd already run when she was suddenly grabbed from behind and felt a cloth thrown over her body. "It's me," said Harry's voice, low in her ear, and Ginny bit back her scream._

" _Aren't you supposed to be patrolling the fields?" she mumbled. She didn't wait for an answer though, but helped Harry push her uniform bottoms and knickers down to her ankles._

" _I'm checking to make sure no one has charmed any of the stands." Harry's breath was hot on her neck and Ginny could feel him fumbling behind her. "Or hidden anything under a bench." He pulled her against him. "Can you bend over? Just a little more?"_

 _Ginny obliged, tugging Harry's Invisibility Cloak a little more firmly around them. It was a breezy day, but the Cloak hung snug against their bodies. "It's as if it wants us to have sex too," she giggled. A second later she gasped as Harry entered her._

" _Of course it does," panted Harry. He thrust insistently into her and Ginny groaned._

" _That feels so good, Harry," she said. She reached down and began teasing herself, feeling herself already spiraling out of control._

" _Let me do that." Harry's hand replaced her own, even as he continued his rhythmic thrusting in and out."Wanna last a little longer," he muttered._

" _Good luck with that," said Ginny. She forced her voice to remain casual. "Gwenog is running along with the team. She looked to be heading in this direction. And she'll probably make it here soon."_

" _Oh god," said Harry. He rocked harder. "Going . . . to come," he said heavily._

" _Not without me," said Ginny. "Hold on . . . just a little . . . there!" She groaned with her climax and felt Harry jerk behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her back, panting._

" _How long . . . until . . . Gwenog . . . gets here?" he managed._

 _Ginny snorted. "She won't. I saw her in the gym. She decided to work out with weights today. I just like how excited you get when you think we're going to get caught."_

 _Harry squeezed her lightly. "Minx," he said._

Yet another time she'd straddled him on one of the benches in the trainer's hut when he'd come in while Ginny was having a cramp massaged out of her back after practice. Harry had been tracking adulterated potion ingredients and was examining the various salves and pastes the trainers kept for sore muscles, cuts and burns. He'd asked the witch working on Ginny if she'd demonstrate some of the products so that Harry was familiar with their appearance and smell, eventually taking over the work himself so that he could recognize how each should feel and look when rubbed onto a player's skin. Glad to have someone else to do her work, the trainer had left for a break soon afterwards. Or maybe she had just wanted to give them some privacy after hearing Ginny's satisfied moans as Harry's hands had delved lower and lower on her back until he finally cupped her arse under the towel that had been covering her.

The Harpies were currently on one of their longest winning streaks ever, and Harry had begun laughingly taking credit for the team's success, suggesting to Ginny that as long as they continued having sex before (and often after) every game, the team would be unbeatable. Ginny hadn't bothered correcting the assumption. The sex after each win was hot and exciting, and Ginny made sure it was always quick enough for Harry to begin his post-game security checks right on time.

It was good to be back on their home pitch after the team's extended road trip, Ginny thought as she ran. She missed her flat and having a bedroom to herself; traveling got tiring after a while. She really did like most of her teammates, but a month on the road, sharing small hotel or dorm-type rooms could be a little much. She tried to bunk with Evie and some of the other, less raucous players as much as she could, and there certainly had been nights when she'd had her share of crazy – actually, a little too crazy - fun. Particularly that night in Bristol . . .

Ginny grinned to herself, remembering Bristol. The night had started out badly because Harry discovered two suspicious packages in the hallway outside the Harpies' hotel rooms. Ginny had seen one of the boxes, humming slightly and emitting green smoke as Harry stood over it – totally unafraid – creating containment spells. Only then had he called in for reinforcements and the Aurors had diffused everything before anyone got hurt. It was obvious, though that whoever it was attacking Quidditch players had gotten bolder and was going for bigger injuries. The poisonous gas in the packages would have frozen all the players' muscles for at least three days; they would have been unable to play their match the following Sunday.

Later that evening, everyone had still been tense, and Gwenog suggested they all go to a pub – Aurors included – to relax. The fact that they actually had a rare day off the next day probably added to Gwenog's feelings of charity, but no one questioned it too much.

Ginny had hung back at first, wanting to wait for Harry to finish transporting the packages back to Auror headquarters and meeting with Kingsley. He'd urged her to go ahead with her teammates and the other Aurors instead, and not wanting to bother him, Ginny had finally agreed. She was happily buzzed when he'd appeared at the pub more than an hour later, and Ginny had made it her personal mission to get Harry to relax . . .

 _She and Harry both drank more than either of them usually did, the stress of the evening magnifying the need for release. Ginny had switched from her normal wine to Firewhiskey and Harry had been chasing shots of some fancy enchanted Scotch with a big cup of ale. They were both more than a little tipsy when he whispered in her ear._

" _There's . . . there's a storage room. Round back of the bar." He stood up and walked off without looking at anyone._

 _Ginny's breath hitched. "I'm . . .I'm going to th' loo," she said to her teammates. Fortunately, they were all too pissed to take her much mind; even Leandra, who was busy sucking on Gavin Sykes' neck, by the look of things._

 _In the storage room, Harry locked the door and pulled out an open bottle of Scotch. "Lie down," he said thickly, gesturing to a table in the corner. It was covered with paperwork until Harry's spell made everything vanish._

" _I hope you aren't too . . . too drunk to get those back," Ginny giggled. She lay down. Harry pushed up the bottom of her dress and carefully dribbled scotch across her belly and down her legs._

" _I put 'em over there," said Harry, waving haphazardly at the other side of the room. "Now lay still while I drink this scotch."_

 _He licked and sucked and tickled Ginny with his tongue until she was almost crazy with wanting him. And then he pulled off his own bottoms and let her suck a bit of the alcohol off of him before straddling her there on the table._

 _The sex was hot and fast and thoroughly satisfying. Even the fact that Ginny later had to help Harry into the back garden of the pub and cast a privacy charm while he got sick didn't really dampen her memories of that night. Harry so rarely lost control like that, Ginny was just glad she'd been there to help him._

"Don't tell me that grin on your face is because you love running stadium steps that much," Leandra's voice broke Ginny out of her reverie. "What are you thinking about? Not that I can't guess."

Ginny couldn't even feel annoyed at the suggestive timbre of Leandra's voice. "Bristol," she replied.

Leandra waggled her eyebrows and nodded. "Ahh yes, Bristol. Quite a night that was."

"Ummhmm," Ginny replied noncommittally. But Leandra wasn't finished.

"So, you seem to be spending an awful lot of your free time with Harry Potter, hmmm? And he's made it more than clear that he's not interested in any of the rest of us. Are the two of you back together?"

"No," said Ginny swiftly. "It's nothing like that. We're just . . . friends."

"Friends . . . right," Leandra said dryly. Then she smirked. "Friends with benefits, maybe. You weren't completely covered by that Invisibility Cloak last week, you know."

Ginny blushed, but said nothing. Goodness knows, she'd seen Leandra in enough compromising positions.

"So," Leandra pressed. "Is Harry a good kisser? He looks like he's good at everything."

"He is," Ginny agreed. "Good at everything. And he works hard for it. That's why he's moved up so fast as an Auror." She looked pointedly at Leandra. "He takes his job very seriously."

"All the Aurors do," Leandra pointed out. "I think it's sexy, watching them swarm all over the stadium and changing rooms after each game. I usually stay and watch before they leave for the pubs. You know, to figure out which one needs a bit of extra . . . attention that night, you know?"

Ginny ignored the innuendo again. "Well, Harry has more to do," she said slowly. He always showed up later than the rest of his team on the nights they went out. "Because he's in charge."

"Really? I thought that Meyers fellow was in charge," remarked Leandra. "Gavin told me Harry lets the other blokes leave early when he can. So they can get out and have some fun, you know?" She raised her eyebrows and Ginny nodded tiredly. _Yes, Leandra, I know what you mean by "fun"._

"Or, I guess some of them go home to their families," she amended, shrugging. Ginny guessed that Leandra couldn't understand why anyone would want to tie themselves down with something like a _family_ – not when there were so many other unattached Aurors to flirt with.

"I didn't know that," said Ginny. It made sense to her, that Harry would try to make it easier for everyone else, and not make a big deal about it. She shrugged. "It's part of being a good leader, recognizing the needs of the people below you, too."

"Ummhmm," agreed Leandra vaguely, already bored with the discussion of Harry Potter and work. She grinned at Ginny and took off again up the next set of steps.

Ginny sighed and began to run after her, but slowly enough that she didn't have to talk anymore. Something Leandra had said prickled at the back of Ginny's brain, bothering her, but she couldn't figure out what it was. For the entire rest of her workout, Ginny kept reviewing the conversation in her head, trying to pinpoint her unease, but the more she concentrated, the more it slipped away. She finally gave up, deciding that if it was truly important, she'd remember eventually.


	8. At the Burrow

_Just act natural_ , Ginny reminded herself for at least the tenth time as she Apparated to a spot just outside the Burrow's wards. She'd been telling Harry the same thing for almost a week, and she just prayed he could follow through. Harry's typical response whenever he was trying to keep some thought or emotion hidden was to pretty much shut down completely. And then her mum would fuss over him and ply him with food, Hermione would drop everything to wheedle whatever it was out of him, and Ron would remark under his breath to Ginny that if she'd just give the poor bloke a snog he'd probably be in a much better mood.

Ginny groaned to herself. If Harry heard Ron say that, there was no way her family wouldn't figure out something was going on.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Ginevra!_ Ginny counseled herself. After all, it wasn't like it was the first time she and Harry had been together at the Burrow since they'd broken up. In fact, the frequency with which her mum had invited the entire family over for dinner in the months after she and Harry had decided not to be together had probably contributed to the ease with which the two of them had become comfortable around each other again.

Well, that, and a little magical help, of course, Ginny amended to herself.

But despite all the Burrow dinners she'd lived through with Harry in the past year, this would be the first since they had agreed to their new arrangement. And somehow, Ginny suspected it was going to be even more difficult and awkward for the two of them than even that very first meeting after their break up had been, when they had spoken to each other in polite tones about their work and other safely boring topics.

No. This was going to be worse. They were going to celebrate Ron and Hermione's engagement, for Merlin's sake! There would be no way to avoid talk of love and romance and someone was certain to bring up Ginny's status as still single – one of the twins, most likely. Harry wasn't going to be immune to that topic either, she realized. And he'd blush, and try not to look at her, and it would be yet another occasion for them to get caught.

Plus, the Burrow was probably going to absolutely reek of sex. Harry had mentioned that he'd walked in on Ron and Hermione having sex on the kitchen table at their flat last week, and that he kept finding Hermione's knickers tucked into the oddest places. It would have been funny to Ginny, thinking about her bookish friend becoming so uninhibited, if not for the fact that the person she was becoming uninhibited with, was Ron. The thought made Ginny shudder.

And Fred was bringing home Katie Bell and George could not be far off from getting engaged to Angelina Johnson and by the time the Burrow itself came into view, Ginny had worked herself up enough to imagine that she'd not even be able to go to the loo without stepping over the writhing bodies of her various brother engaged in acts of coitus with all of Ginny's old schoolmates.

Ginny huffed. Everyone was going to be getting some this weekend except for her. And Harry.

Because there was no way they could get away with anything in her parents' house with her entire family around. They already watched her and Harry like hawks, hoping to see any sign that the two of them were getting back together. Bugger.

There was just no way. None at all.

 _Was there?_

HPHPHPHPHPHP

 _He probably wouldn't have been nearly as nervous about going to the Burrow if Ginny hadn't spent the past week threatening him with all manner of hexes if he didn't act natural,_ Harry mused to himself as he prepared to floo in. Part of Ginny's plan for acting natural included the rule that they could absolutely not arrive together, even though he was pretty sure that at least Ron knew Harry had been assigned to the Harpies and had been with the team all month. But Ginny was adamant. Not only could they not arrive together, they couldn't even use the same method of transportation, for some reason. They'd had a contest the night before to choose who got to Apparate and who had to use the floo. Ginny's hand job had brought Harry to orgasm exactly 37 seconds faster than his did to her, so she got to arrive via a method that did not create either nausea or the need for soot removal charms.

 _It's just because I was already aroused from getting her off,_ Harry thought petulantly to himself. He could have held on much longer if he had just gone first.

 _Yeah, right._

He looked at his watch. Ginny had ordered him to wait at least seventeen minutes after she left before he floo'ed – so she would have time to get to Burrow and get situated before he arrived. His stomach growled and he hoped Ron hadn't eaten everything before Harry got there. Not that that was usually possible, not with all the food Molly always made.

But Ron had uncharacteristically eaten almost nothing all week, he'd been so nervous about proposing to Hermione. Harry had been the recipient of no less than eight frantic Patronus messages from Ron, and he'd actually had to Apparate back to their flat several times just to reassure his best mate that yes, he could do this, and yes, Hermione was most likely going to agree to marry him. Now that the pressure was off, Ron would probably be eating everything in sight.

Harry just hoped the food distracted Ron enough not to notice anything unusual between him and Ginny. And that Hermione was too busy pouring over wedding magazines with Katie and Angelina. And Molly was too concerned with feeding them all, and Arthur was more interested in learning about Muggle wedding customs.

And the twins . . .

 _Oh, hell._

Exactly seventeen minutes after Ginny disappeared from the Harpies' Apparation point, Harry stepped into the floo in the team's main office and called out, "the Burrow!" He'd gotten marginally better at this form of transportation since his first, disastrous journey his second year, but it was still his least favorite means of magical travel.

 _At least I didn't stumble this time_ , he thought to himself, stepping out into the Burrow's kitchen and brushing off the soot. He had to force himself not to look immediately for Ginny, even though he could practically feel her gaze on him from across the room. It had been another one of her instructions for him – no eye contact until he'd greeted everyone else. Harry privately thought that between their FWB rules and Ginny's instructions for acting natural, he might as well just go sit in a corner of the room and refuse to speak to anyone, lest he reveal too much information about, well, pretty much anything.

Harry!" The cry broke out from several places around the room and Harry looked up cautiously. _Ignore Ginny, ignore Ginny_. Fortunately, Molly caught him immediately in a big hug and he was able to concentrate for a moment on not being smothered. From there he shook hands with Arthur and then moved easily to clap Ron on the back and hug Hermione, which of course moved into several minutes of oohing and ahhing over her ring (which Harry had already seen, in its box, a half dozen times; part of Ron's nervousness of the past week had led him to second-guess his diamond decision and Harry had been the one reassure him that yes, it was gorgeous. As if he knew a thing about womens' jewelry).

Finally, after dodging handshakes from both the twins and greeting their girlfriends, Harry finally dared to raise his head and look around the kitchen. He didn't know if it was his imagination, but suddenly the regular Weasley clamor and craziness seemed to die away as he met Ginny's eye. She was leaning against the counter watching him greet her family, a faintly calculating smirk on her face.

Harry was surprised. She definitely wasn't giving him the "friendly but disinterested" smile she'd decided was the safest expression for each of them to use when addressing the other. The look on her face was . . . something else entirely. Harry felt a momentary tremor of panic that he'd missed one of Ginny's instructions. The next minute he shook his head. _Had she just licked her lips?_ He felt a tremor in quite a different part of his body and he had to force himself to break eye contact.

"You both must be so busy with your jobs. Ginny's been on the road all month – the team is doing so well right now," said Molly, looking back and forth between them with a slightly confused look on her face. "She just got here half an hour ago."

 _Seventeen minutes, actually_ , thought Harry to himself, and he couldn't quite hide his own smirk. He didn't know if Molly was unaware that Harry was working for the Harpies right now or if she was avoiding mentioning it, but if she was going to act as if he and Ginny hadn't seen each other since the last Burrow dinner, well then, Harry wasn't going to be the one to enlighten her.

Ron, on the other, was.

"Mum, Harry and Ginny see each other practically every day, Harry's assigned security detail for the Harpies right now. You know, since all the weird attacks and things started."

Molly must not have known about Harry's assignment; he didn't think she could have convincingly manufactured the surprise that flashed across her face when she heard the news.

"Really now? Well, I have to say I feel much better knowing that you are the one protecting Ginny, Harry. And it's lovely that the two of you are able to spend some time together."

"Harry's busy working, mum. It's not like he can just drop everything and go out for a fly and chase Quaffles or anything. Or Bludgers, for that matter." Ginny was very carefully not looking at Harry when she spoke, but a blush climbed up her features anyway.

"Well, even so," Molly continued, "I'm sure there must be some opportunities for the two of you to see each other. You both have to eat at some point, don't you?" She turned back to Harry. "I'm sure part of the security detail involves you staying pretty close to the players, right? So you can make sure nothing happens? I'd feel so much better if I knew that you were the one waiting outside Ginny's changing room after every game, instead of some of those unsavory types that always seem to be hanging around. They have only one thing on their minds, I'm sure of it."

 _If she only knew_ , thought Harry.

He sighed to himself. Everyone was sure to make a much bigger deal of his work assignment than it really was. Well, at least bigger than anyone knew it was. His eyes moved involuntarily back to Ginny and he wordlessly begged her to intercede. She studiously ignored him, while she turned to her mum with a serious expression on her face.

"That's true mum. If Harry was able to patrol the changing rooms, I'm sure that nothing improper would be able to happen." She looked at Harry and raised her eyebrows. "Isn't that right, Harry?"

Ginny's face was the picture of innocence, but Harry could tell by the firm set of her lips that she was trying not to laugh.

 _Way to act natural, Ginny_. In desperation he turned to Hermione.

"So, do you have any idea when you think you want to have the wedding?"

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny watched as Harry squirmed beneath her mother's questions. She was rather enjoying herself, especially because she knew that Harry was completely confused. He'd arrived at the Burrow prepared for the two of them to be friendly and polite to each other, but not much else. It had seemed like the most reasonable plan, at the time. But some time during her walk from the edge of the Burrow's wards to the back door, Ginny realized that there was no way the two of them were going to be able to pull it off. Harry would try too hard, she would probably be on edge waiting for one of the twins to make some sexual innuendo, and they'd both be on the defensive before dinner was served.

And Gwenog always said, the best defense was good offense. Besides, it could be a lot of fun.

While Hermione launched into a longwinded discussion about the most rain free months in Southern England ("Because of course, we'd like an outdoor wedding, right Ron?"), Ginny watched as Harry tried to sidle out of the room.

 _Can't let that happen._

"Harry, you probably should listen to the planning too, as you are going to be best man," she smiled sweetly and looked at her brother. "Isn't that right, Ron?"

Ron, who had looked like he would have rather been sneaking out along with Harry, startled. "Oh, uh, right, Okay, mate?"

Harry chuckled. "I think the fact that I was the one keeping you from passing out while you actually bought the ring means that you have no choice but to pick me." He gave a sly look in the direction of Hermione. She was still prattling on happily to Molly and Katie and Angelina, the latter of whom had brought a number of Muggle and Wizarding wedding magazines to look through.

"Ron, fancy a game of chess?"

Ron gave Harry a relieved look and practically leapt out of his seat. Harry shot Ginny a triumphant smirk as he followed Ron into the sitting room.

 _Humpf. That's what he thinks_.

Ginny followed them into the sitting room, where Fred and George were sitting together discussing inventory for their shop. They were bent low over a piece of parchment that was covered with moving figures that occasionally seemed to leap off the page and disappear in puffs of smoke. They barely looked up as the three entered the room.

Harry and Ron took seats on either side of the table and started setting up their men. Harry had a serious expression on his face; he had still never beaten Ron at a game and Ginny suspected he was counting on Ron's distraction with the engagement to make him careless. He looked up at Ginny and smiled. "Are you going to help me, Ginny?"

Ginny bit her lip, thinking. _Did she dare?_

Ginny smiled back, deciding to test the waters. "Maybe, if you're _very_ lucky," she said, with more than a hint of suggestion in her voice.

It worked. Neither Fred nor George looked up from their work across the room, and Ron just mumbled vaguely, "no cheating, Gin," as he studied the board.

Ginny quickly turned around and waved her wand silently around her. She'd have to thank Leandra later for teaching her the charm.

Ron and Harry began their game, with Ron almost immediately capturing one of Harry's bishops and a couple pawns. He scowled down at the board, and Ginny stifled a laugh. Harry was not a competitive person, normally, but she knew he wanted to beat Ron just once. Unfortunately, he was about to be extremely distracted.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry sighed and looked down at the chess board. He'd suggested playing both to get away from all of Hermione's wedding talk, and also because he hoped it would help him avoid trying to think about Ginny. Because she had definitely been licking her lips when she looked at him. And then, her voice when he'd asked her for help with the game! It had been undeniably sexy. What the hell he was supposed to do about it, Harry had no idea. They were at the Burrow, for Merlin's sake, and they were supposed to be acting natural!

She was still here, in the sitting room, watching them with an odd little half-smile on her face. Harry tried his hardest not to look at her, he had a vaguely nervous feeling that looking at Ginny right now would be a very bad idea.

Ron was peering down at the chess board, his brow furrowed so tightly in concentration that his eyes were nearly shut. Harry tried to follow his gaze, to focus on the little black and white pieces that were shaking their fists and yelling directions. But he couldn't completely obscure the reddish blur standing behind Ron, leaning casually against the back of the couch. Ginny was wearing a blue jumper and Harry kept his eyes focused on the dark material, willing himself not to raise his head enough to catch sight of Ginny's face, or worse, her lips.

The blue flickered. Creamy white and pink flashed across Harry's vision for the barest of seconds and then was gone.

"Whaaaa . . .th-the . . . huh?" The pawn he had been about to move forwards tumbled across the board, taking out a rook and a knight, and all of Harry's pieces glared at him.

"Sorry. Sorry about that," he mumbled, trying to right everything. Ron was too busy watching his queen to notice but Harry was certain he heard Ginny stifle a snigger.

 _Had he just seen what he thought he did?_

He dared to look up at Ginny. Her face was a mask of innocence. Too innocent. She reminded Harry of Fred and George when they were waiting for you to bite into a sweet they had spiked.

"Are you okay there, Harry?" she asked.

"Fine," he muttered, turning back to the game. He wasn't going to let her bait him. He moved his rook and managed to capture one of Ron's pawns. Ron promptly turned around and captured Harry's rook; he belatedly realized it had been a trap. Sighing, Harry leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers behind his head. Looked like this game was going to go the same as all the others – badly.

 _Bloody hell! Ginny's breasts!_

 _Ginny's breasts?"_

The words screamed in Harry's head as loudly as if he'd yelled them out loud. But Ron was still calmly regarding his pieces and Fred and George were ignoring them in the corner.

 _Why had he just thought of Ginny's breasts?_ Harry looked up at Ginny again. She was watching him with concern and her breasts were nowhere in sight under the bulky jumper she wore. But he could have sworn he'd seen . . .

He took a deep breath. It was just the sex, he told himself. His body had gotten used to all the sex and now it was reacting to the fact that it wasn't going to get any this weekend. He just had to ignore it, and, if things got really bad, he'd go take a shower.

 _And Ginny was standing behind Ron grinning, with no shirt on._

 _Sweet Merlin!_

Harry sucked in his breath so fast he choked, and had to bend, gasping and coughing, over the table. The commotion was finally enough to break Ron's concentration. He looked up, confused at why his best mate was suddenly acting as if he'd tried to swallow an entire dragon egg whole.

"Harry, you're never going to beat me if you don't pay better attention." He peered at Harry's face.

"Are you okay? Cause you look kind of flushed or something."

"M'okay," Harry managed to gasp. He gave Ginny the best glare he could while trying to keep his face away from her chest. He was fighting a losing battle. He knew it, and she knew it; Harry loved Ginny's breasts. They were soft and smooth and the perfect size for Harry's hand - or his mouth. And the dark nub in the center that wrinkled and hardened with the lightest pressure from his fingers or his tongue . . . Harry swallowed hard, shifting in his seat.

Ginny raised her eyebrows as if she knew exactly what Harry was thinking, and a second later her jumper popped back into existence.

Harry couldn't help but sigh. Because even though he half wanted to throttle Ginny for trying to arouse him in the middle of the bloody Burrow, the other half, the lower half of him, was totally turned on. He swallowed thickly and willed Ron to move faster. _How long until this game ends anyway?_

"I'd better go see if I can help mum in the kitchen," Ginny remarked lightly, moving towards the sitting room door. Harry didn't even try to look away this time and as he watched, Ginny smirked at him and blinked her eyes, and once again, Harry got a lovely, but unfortunately too fleeting, glimpse of her breasts. She smiled once more and then disappeared into the kitchen.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

 _Teasing Harry had been a lot of fun_ , Ginny thought to herself as she went to help her mother. She thought he was going to swallow his tongue, at once point, and the look of surprise on his face when he realized what she was doing was priceless. As were the subtle shifts and swipes he was making at his crotch when she left.

But there was an unintended consequence of watching Harry get worked up, Ginny realized. She was now aroused herself; her knickers were damp and her breasts tingled as if to complain about the fact that she'd made them show themselves off but was now denying them any reward. Leaving the sitting room for the kitchen was as much to try to get her own randiness under control as it was genuine concern for Harry's.

Of course, subjecting herself to uninterrupted time alone with her mum had its own consequences, and Ginny mentally prepared herself to answer a lot of questions about just how often she and Harry happened to run into each other at work.

Fortunately, Hermione, Katie and Angelina were still pouring over bridal magazines at the kitchen table, sparing Ginny her mother's undivided attention. That didn't stop her, however, from looking up as Ginny walked in the room and asking, much too casually, if she didn't think the boys in the sitting room might like a snack, and would Ginny like to make one for them?

"We're eating dinner in ten minutes, mum? Aren't we?" Ginny replied patiently. "I think Harry can wait. Ron, I'm not so sure about."

"Well then," said her mum, "you would know best what Harry needs, right?" She spoke distractedly, still looking down at a page of Wizard wedding robes, but Ginny wasn't fooled for an instant.

"Not anymore, mum, we broke up almost a year ago, remember?"

Molly dropped all pretense and looked up at Ginny with the expression she usually reserved for questioning the twins about things like why their father's hair was suddenly bright blue. "I remember, dear. Do you?"

Her mother didn't wait for an answer, but dropped her gaze back down to the magazine. "I like the one with the gold trim, don't you, Hermione?"

Ginny froze in place. _Damn, her mother was good._ Less than an hour at home and she already suspected something. It was all well and good to have her fun teasing Harry, but that didn't mean she wanted the entire family watching. And jumping to the wrong conclusions. _Better ease up a bit._

Arthur picked that moment to wander into the kitchen seeking dinner, and Bill and Fluer arrived moments later, Fleur's heavily pregnant stomach seeming to enter the room well before she did. Ginny relaxed and let the regular Weasley energy surround her; if there was anything that could divert her family's suspicions, it was the general mayhem that ensued whenever they all got together.

She had warned Harry yesterday that he was not, under any circumstances, to sit next to her at dinner. He had promised to maintain a distance of at least three chairs from her, and she suddenly hoped her little display earlier hadn't distracted him so much that he couldn't remember her instructions.

But when Harry and Ron appeared from the living room, he barely gave her a glance before sliding into a seat across the table, but one down, from her. He and Ron were heavily into a discussion about Quidditch and how a team's strategizing was similar to deploying strategy during a chess match. It was a discussion they had every time Harry lost, and now he was vehemently disagreeing with Ron.

"They really aren't a thing alike, mate. The team structure of Quidditch means that you have to rely on the collective group, not a single player. Plus, it's much more physical."

"Yeah," Fred broke in. "And besides, if chess was anything at all like Quidditch, Harry here might actually win a game once in a while."

Harry charmed his napkin to go flying at Fred's head like a dart, and Fred ducked just in time for the napkin to settle itself neatly across Fleur's stomach.

"Zank you, Harry," said Fleur sweetly, lowering herself into a chair.

Ginny glanced at Harry again as the platters of food began lazily rotating through the air so that everyone could take their share. He was intent on selecting a piece of chicken and did not look up at her.

 _Well, good. I'm glad he paid attention to me yesterday._

 _Although . . . he could at least look at me. Let me know he enjoyed my little display or something._ Ginny knew she should probably be ashamed of herself for having such a thought, but she couldn't help it. She had bared her naked chest to Harry – within plain sight of three of her older brothers – and for all he seemed affected, she may as well been showing him samples of Hermione's bridesmaid dresses. It was quite disconcerting, watching him calmly cutting up his potatoes and discussing the Muggle post system with her father.

Ginny huffed to herself and very deliberately did not join in the conversation. Instead, she turned to Fleur and Bill and peppered them with questions about the baby. She refused to even turn her head when she heard a fork clatter to the floor from somewhere in Harry's vicinity and only vaguely registered his chair scraping back as he bent down to get it.

So she was completely unprepared for the rustling of fabric around her middle and the sudden rush of cool air flooding the area between her legs.

 _What the hell?_ Ginny squeaked in surprise and felt her face heat as she realized what Harry had done while he was under the table.

And actually, he still was under the table, muttering about not being able to find his fork, and where had it gotten to? And all the time, one of his hands was gently stroking up the inside of her thigh. Which was suddenly covered with only a rather short skirt, instead of her trousers.

And what had he done with her knickers?

Most of the family looked at Ginny when she squeaked and it took all her willpower to rearrange her features into a calm mask again.

"Sorry," she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I accidentally stabbed myself with my fork."

Fred and George, masters of the good excuse, looked down at her rather disdainfully. They'd taught her better than that, for sure. Then again, Ginny thought, their lessons in getting away with mayhem had certainly never covered the topic of how to act natural when your ex-boyfriend suddenly banishes half your clothes whilst both of you are sitting at dinner with your entire family.

Harry's head reappeared from under the table then; he clutched the errant fork triumphantly in his fist and flashed Ginny a cocky grin before turning his attentions back to Ron to continue their discussion.

Ginny had no idea what kind of charm he had set under the table, but every minute or so she felt another puff of cool air between her legs. It should probably have chilled her, but of course was having the exact opposite effect instead, and the shivers that kept coursing through her had nothing at all to do with being cold.

Harry still wasn't looking her way, but every so often Ginny saw the hint of a smirk flit across his face. He shifted subtly in his seat while reaching across the table for another roll and Ginny realized that his casual demeanor was taking a lot more effort than he let on. She smiled to herself and pushed her chair back.

"Going to the loo," she said, walking carefully around the table and waiting for someone to mention . . .

"Ginny, weren't you wearing trousers earlier?"

 _Thanks, Hermione._

"Yes, but since I wear pants pretty much all the time at work, I thought a skirt would be a nice change of pace." Ginny stopped to the side of Harry's chair and shook her hips just slightly. "It's nice, isn't it?" she asked the room at large.

Harry shifted in his seat again. As Ron stabbed the last strawberry off the platter in front of him, Ginny leaned over into the space between his chair and Harry's and plucked it off the end of his fork. She gave her brother's mutinous expression a cheeky grin in response, turning her body so that she faced Ron almost straight on.

Which meant, of course, that her arse was just inches from Harry.

Ginny bent over just a bit to peer into Ron's face as she slowly popped the strawberry in her mouth, taking care to make sure her bare leg pressed into the side of Harry's thigh. As she straightened back up, grinning at her brother, she brushed her hand across Harry's shoulder, as if she was trying to get her balance. He stiffed under her hand and she saw him swallow hard.

 _Heh. Banish my knickers, will you._

Her ministrations completed, Ginny turned and walked up the stairs to the loo. By the time she had rounded the corner and was out of sight of the kitchen, her hand was already between her legs, rubbing furiously.

She was almost to the bathroom when she realized she had left her wand downstairs.

 _I'll have to do this without any locking or silencing charms, damn._

Ginny hurried herself along, and was just getting into a rhythm when there was a sharp rap at the door.

"Ginny?" _Oi. Harry_. "Ginny, I really need to get in there, now."

 _I'll bet you do._

"Just a second, Harry," Ginny called. "I'm not . . . finished yet."

"Please, Ginny," Harry was begging. "I'm . . . I'm not feeling so well. Something I ate isn't agreeing with me. I . . . I think I'm going to be sick."

He sounded really terrible, and Ginny hastily pulled down her skirt and yanked open the door, stepping out quickly to give Harry room to walk by her.

He practically leapt past her into the loo, a look of grim determination on his face, but as he turned to close the door, he suddenly smirked back at her and raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, Gin. I definitely needed this more than you do."

 _Arghhh!_ Ginny smacked her forehead against the bathroom door in frustration. She couldn't believe she'd fallen for that. And Harry had his wand, which meant he could lock the door quite completely while he relieved himself.

Ginny considered just going into her room and finishing up herself, but she still didn't have her wand and she wouldn't put it past Harry to interrupt her there, too, once he finished his own wank.

 _Damn._

Help, in the form of 38-week-pregnant Fleur, appeared, huffing at the top of the stairs.

"'Arry, he eez een there?" She asked, pointing her wand at the door to the loo.

"Yes," said Ginny, "but I'm sure if he knew you were out here and needed to get in, he'd come right out." Just in case Fleur missed the point, Ginny added meaningfully, "I don't think he's actually using the loo."

"Ahhh," said Fleur, nodding, "la masturbation. 'E needs to find une jeune fille, non?"

"No," said Ginny swiftly. "He just needs to stop wanking in the loo."

Fleur gave Ginny a knowing look and raised her wand. Sparks shot out and the door to the loo shuddered.

"'Arry! I need to get in there! La bebe eez pressing on my insides!" Fleur shot more sparks at the door and a second later, Harry jerked it open, his eyes wild.

"Thank you, 'Arry," said Fleur, breezing past him into the bathroom. Ginny could not suppress her giggles. Harry's shirt was only partially tucked into his pants and a bit was showing through his half-unzipped fly. From the look on his face, Ginny guessed that he'd been close when the door had almost come crashing in on him.

He looked desperately at Ginny, his body vibrating with tension. He glanced towards her bedroom "door and then back at her. He licked his lips. "D'you want to . . ." he trailed off.

 _Yes._

"I need to get downstairs to help my mum with pudding," said Ginny thickly. She turned away so Harry wouldn't see her lick her own lips, but she doubted he could miss the way her body shuddered as his arm brushed hers.

"Pudding. Right," said Harry. He was still standing in front of the loo door, looking kind of lost.

"Oh, and Harry?" said Ginny as she moved towards the top of the staircase. He looked up hopefully.

"Yes?"

"Before you come down, you may want to check your zip."

"I'm already down," she heard him mutter dejectedly as he turned to follow her back to the kitchen.

A/N: You heard it here first (and if I say it, I have to do it): My Christmas gift to all of you is to have all of In Case of Emergency and Firsts reposted by New Years. I also have a couple more one-shots in the works along with Charming Ginny, but I'm going to really try to get the old stuff up first.


	9. Full Moon Rising

Harry counted slowly to ten before rounding the corner and descending the final steps into the kitchen. Because of course, Ginny didn't think they should return _together_ , someone might suspect something.

 _As if they don't already, after I went barreling upstairs to pull Ginny out of the loo._

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, and a way to get Ginny back for shaking her arse in his face. And the look she gave him when he convinced her to open the bathroom door had been priceless. But now he was stuck with a rather painful erection in the middle of the very group of people who would like nothing better than to either take the mickey out of him for shagging their sister, or worse, start questioning him about whether he and Ginny were having a _relationship_.

He caught Ginny's eye and saw that she looked as uncomfortable as he was.

Bugger. Coming here, now, had probably been a really bad idea on both their parts. It should have been in the rules, actually. No visits to the Burrow. The line between what used to be and what was, now, was too blurry. He sighed and wondered if his stomachache excuse could get him back up to the loo at any point that evening.

"Harry, can you give me a hand for a second?" Molly was looking up from the counter, frowning. "I don't have enough berries for the trifle. Will you and Ron go to the garden and gather some? The plants are under warming charms so you may have to search a bit."

 _Me and Ron?_

"I thought Hermione wanted to show Ron her choices for wedding robes," said Harry innocently. He glanced at Ginny, and then just as quickly looked back at her mother. "Maybe . . . uhh, maybe I should just go by myself. I'm sure I can find what you need."

Ginny snorted. "He'll probably come back with beans and tomatoes, mum. Harry's never seen warming charms before." She raised her eyebrows. "I'm sure those will be delicious in the trifle."

"Fine," Harry huffed. "You go then. I'll stay in here and get started on the Firewhisky with Fred and George. He looked over to the corner where Ginny's brothers were lining up a number of bottles. It looked as though they planned to get "Ickle Ronniekins" quite pissed in honor of his engagement.

"Not likely," said Ginny. "If I'm going, you're going." She grabbed a bottle of the whisky and a basket. "Come on."

"Try to get strawberries and raspberries and blackberries, if you can," called Molly after them.

Neither of them spoke as they walked stiffly outside. Ginny unscrewed the bottle on the cap and took a long pull. "Subtle, Potter. I thought we were supposed to be acting natural."

Harry grabbed the bottle from her and drank, feeling the warmth reach almost to his toes. "Right. And charming your shirt to disappear and shaking your arse in my face is 'acting natural.' You might as well have stood up in the middle of the kitchen and announced to everyone that we're shagging."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. "And are we?"

Harry paused for only a millisecond. "Hell yes, we are. Can you put a Silencing Charm around the entire garden?"

Ginny took the bottle from him and took another drink. "Whatever it takes, Harry."

Harry looked back at the Burrow, half expecting to see the entire Weasley clan gathered at the door watching them, but no one was there. Mentally thanking Ron for getting engaged, he quickened his pace until he was inside the garden's wall and could no longer see the house.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny supposed she should have been nervous that she was planning on having sex with her ex-boyfriend practically within sight of her parents' house – while her entire family was inside. But she couldn't dredge up much fear; she was far too eager to get Harry's trousers off and relieve the ache that had been building inside her ever since he'd stepped through the Floo. It was definitely to their advantage that Ron and Hermione were pulling everyone's attention away; even the twins hadn't bothered to question her bizarre actions after Harry had spent that ridiculous amount of time under the table charming away her knickers, and no one had batted an eyelash when she and Harry had left the kitchen together to go pick berries.

She doubted that the rest of them were even bothering to wait for dessert before they started opening bottles and plying Ron with drink; she was glad she'd thought to grab a bottle of Firewhiskey before it was all gone. She took another swig and shivered as the fire burned down her throat and into her belly, where it collided with an entirely different type of heat. Her aborted attempt at pleasuring herself up in the loo had left her clitoris tingling, and knowing what they were about to do only aroused her further. She glanced at Harry. His face was set with a determination that could have made him look grim if she hadn't recognized the need plainly under the surface. She could guess how much effort it was taking him to walk casually as he moved swiftly away from the entrance to the garden towards one of the darker corners, partially obscured by several tall tomato plants.

She couldn't resist baiting him.

"We probably should pick the berries first, don't you think?"

The look he gave her – part desperation, part incredulous disbelief – was so funny that Ginny couldn't hold back a snort. The action sent a shock of heat between her legs and she tensed involuntarily, doing everything in her power to keep her gaze calm.

Harry swallowed thickly. "Uhh, d'you?" His eyes pleaded with her and Ginny gave in.

Not that it took much.

"I think the berries can wait," she whispered, watching as relief flooded Harry's features. He moved towards her and grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey, taking another long pull before reaching down in front of her. He roughly grabbed the bottom of her jumper and pushed it up, exposing her skin to the cool air. She shivered, even more so when both of his warm hands wrapped around her back, fumbled there for a second, and then unclasped her bra.

He pushed the fabric aside and immediately buried his face in her breasts.

"Been waiting for this," he mumbled against her skin. He was breathing heavily, almost panting in and out against her as his hands kneaded and his tongue explored.

Ginny tried to tease. "I'll bet you . . . . ohhhh . . . ." her flippant remark died on her lips as Harry's tongue flitted across an erect nipple, making her other harden as well.

"You . . . made me . . . so . . . hard," he groaned. "Flashing me in front of your brothers." He stopped talking then and resumed his exploration of her chest with his mouth.

"Oh, so you liked that, huh?" Ginny responded breathlessly. She'd tangled both her hands in his hair and was gently guiding him back and forth as he suckled first one breast and then the other.

"Mmmmhmmm" was his only response.

Ginny supposed it was still chilly for late April evening, but her head was buzzing pleasantly and the air felt wonderful on her overheated flesh. She pulled her jumper completely over her head and let it fall to the ground before reaching down between them.

Harry's squeak of surprise as Ginny cupped his erection made her giggle. She'd forgotten just how much Harry liked playing with her breasts. She suspected he could have stayed where he was for another half hour if she let him, able to somehow ignore his own needs until they were almost explosive.

She giggled again as another memory came to her – Harry, Sixth Year, getting so aroused while focusing on Ginny's chest that he'd been unable to hold in his orgasm until she'd actually touched him first. The look on his face as he'd suddenly come all over his half-opened trousers had been priceless, but the experience hadn't at all dampened Harry's enthusiasm for that part of Ginny's anatomy.

Now, it appeared that her laughter – and the jiggling that accompanied it – was again succeeding in working Harry into a frenzy. He was humming slightly as he worked against her, and his hips were thrusting in and out of their own accord; his position at her chest keeping the rest of him just slightly too far away to actually make contact with Ginny's own center.

In one move, she pushed Harry's head away and grabbed his bum, pulling his erection to her.

"Mmmm . . . whaa . . . ?" His eyes opened wide and he seemed almost surprised to find Ginny's breasts suddenly gone. She raised her eyebrows.

"Don't want you to get too carried away there, do we?"

Harry blushed and shook his head, his hips already finding a rhythm against hers.

"H-h-how d'you wanna do this?" Harry's eyes were unnaturally bright and his words slightly slurred. His erection was pushing at the front of his pants and Ginny giggled again. Everything seemed really _funny_ tonight.

She poked Harry in the chest. "How? How? Don't you know how by now?!" She snorted. "How by now! I rhymed!" Harry giggled back at her and Ginny poked him again.

"Hey! Quit poking me!" he protested. "I'm supposed to be poking you-ou-ouuu!" Harry ended in a sing-song voice, grinning at her stupidly.

"Well then, get . . . on . . . with . . . it!" Ginny grinned back, poking him one time with each word. She must have been stronger than she thought because Harry took an automatic step backwards and Ginny lost her balance, sitting down hard in the dirt.

"Owww!"

Harry leered at her from above. "That's what you get for poking me!" he teased. His expression turned suggestive. "However, now that you're down there . . ."

Ginny wrapped her arms around herself. "On the ground? It's dirty!"

Harry was already lowering himself to his knees in front of her, his eyes and hands going automatically to her breasts again. "So?" he said heavily, leaning in to suck. "Are you a witch or what? We'll just use cleaning charms." His tongue darted across her nipple and Ginny shivered. Her hand was resting on something soft and when she realized it was her jumper she grabbed it and pulled it back on, pushing Harry away at the same time.

He looked around, confused.

"Hey! Where'd they go?" he pouted. Ginny ignored Harry's complaint and pulled him closer before lying back on the ground. Harry's eyes wandered away from her now covered chest and after a second his expression brightened.

"I _forgot_ I banished your knickers - cool!" He fumbled at his waist and pushed down his jeans and boxers, giggling as his erection sprang free and pointed out towards Ginny. "It's saying hi!"

"Hi," said Ginny dreamily. She had already hiked up her skirt and was making slow, lazy circles around her clit, her hips rising and falling in anticipation. Harry shuffled a bit closer, reaching his own hand in to cover hers. Ginny groaned. "Soooo good,"

The head of Harry's penis tickled Ginny's entrance and she tried widening her legs to allow him to enter. He just couldn't get quite close enough until she lifted her bum off the ground and balanced one leg on each of his shoulders. His grin widened. "This is new," he said, looking straight down into her center. A second later he thrust hard.

Ginny groaned with pleasure. She almost felt like the lower half of her body was weightless, its only purpose to accept Harry's thrusts inside her. Since she couldn't reach him from her position on the ground she continued to minister to herself as Harry pumped in and out. It wouldn't take long for either of them, she could tell. Her own crest was building and Harry's eyes had gone unfocused, his rhythm becoming erratic. He pushed hard into her and stopped, panting, resting his hands on her legs as he struggled to contain himself.

Ginny couldn't help pulsing against him, making tiny thrusts up and down and clenching her muscles around his penis, still buried deep. He groaned.

"Oh Merlin that feels . . . ohhh, don't . . . stop . . ."

"Pull out slowly and then come back in," Ginny instructed. She knew it would take all his control and she wanted to see how long he could last.

Harry bit his lip as he moved his hips slowly backwards until he had withdrawn all but his tip.

"Now back in. Just as slowly," she commanded. Harry nodded and swallowed hard. His eyes were almost black and they stared into her own. He wanted to do exactly as she asked, Ginny could tell. Even though it was nearly impossible for him to hold on at that point.

As soon as he was fully inside her again, Ginny clenched around him. She closed her eyes, struggling for her own control.

"Once m-m-more?" she asked breathlessly, losing the ability to command him as her own climax neared.

"Yeah," Harry gasped, clutching at her knees as he pulled out again.

Ginny barely dared to breath. Harry pushed back into her, his body vibrating with unreleased tension. As she watched, his head fell onto his chest and the muscles in his jaw tightened with effort.

"Ginny," he gasped. "I've got to . . ."

"Let go, Harry," she cried, feeling her orgasm crash over her. She kept clenching around him as he pulled back and thrust into her wildly, finally groaning with pleasure and relief as he finished.

Harry lowered Ginny's legs to the ground and then collapsed on top of her, his head resting on her stomach and moving up and down as she breathed.

"That was . . . I didn't think I could . . . hold on . . . that long," he panted. "Amazing. It was amazing."

Ginny smiled beneath him. "I think it was the position."

"And the fact that we drank half a bottle of Firewhisky and had sex in your parents' garden," giggled Harry.

Ginny giggled back. "The berries! We need to get the berries!" She tried pushing against Harry's head but he wouldn't budge.

"Let someone else pick the berries," he mumbled.

"Well, if that's what you want," said Ginny mischievously. "We can wait here, just like this, until my mum sends one of my brothers out to see if the gnomes got us. Or, maybe she'll just come out here herself."

Harry scrambled off her immediately. "Bloody Hell, do you think she's coming? He pulled up his pants and began pawing desperately at his belt, trying to get it back through the loops of his jeans.

Ginny sat up and smirked. "Not yet, Harry. It's okay." He still looked panicked and Ginny reached over and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. "Here, take a drink and calm down."

Harry took two big gulps as his breathing slowed and the smile returned to his face. He shoved the bottle back at Ginny. "Here, you're getting behind."

Ginny took a long drink and grabbed the basket. "Let's pick berries, Potter."


	10. Drunken Confessions

Ginny giggled and knocked her hip against Harry as they walked back towards the Burrow, having finally managed to liberate enough berries from their warming charms.

He threw his arm around her shoulder. "Silly bushes. If they'd just have stopped dancing around we could have gotten the berries much faster."

"You were the one dancing, Harry," said Ginny. "I've never quite seen anything like, what did you call it? The berry boogie?"

Harry laughed, he was feeling so good right now.

Two steps from the door to the kitchen he grabbed Ginny's arm. "Wait. Are you sure it's okay for us to go in together? Or should I wait outside for exactly 11-and-a-half minutes first?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's fine, Harry. They know we went to pick berries together." But her expression got more serious anyway, and she took a step away, moving the basket to her other arm so that it was between them. "Just don't let anything slip, okay?"

Harry smirked. "Like I want your entire family to know we just fucked in the garden."

"Lovely, Harry." Ginny pushed the door open.

They must have been gone longer than he'd thought, Harry reflected. The kitchen was deserted, save for a row of empty whiskey bottles, and raucous laughter could be heard from the living room.

"Go Ronnie, Go Ronnie! All right!" It sounded like all the Weasley brothers were chanting, and Harry even thought he heard Arthur's voice in there as well.

"Oh dear. Boys, don't let him fall over like that." Molly sounded only half worried about her youngest son. The rest of her sounded quite tipsy.

Harry grinned at Ginny. "Sounds like we're missing quite a party. Shall we?" He indicated the door to the living room.

The living room was hazy with purple and red and green smoke, some of which seemed to be coming from the ears and noses of various Weasley brothers. Fleur had apparently gone home, but everyone else was still there, in various stages of drunkenness. Harry walked over to Ron, who was indeed listing dangerously to one side in his chair, a sloppy grin on his face. His brothers had backed away and were conferring among themselves. Ginny went to join them, taking the bottle of Firewhiskey with her.

"Having fun, Ronniekins?" Harry asked, pulling him upright.

Ron squinted at him for a second and then frowned. "I'm older'n you, so no callin' me Ronniekins," he slurred. "I'm Ron. Jusht . . . Ron." He looked over at his new fiancée.

"An that's Her-her-hermioneeee over there. See? Isnshe pretty?"

Hermione was giggling with Angelina and Katie, her face more flushed than Harry had ever seen it. She looked up and blew Ron a kiss before taking another drink out of her glass.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now slow dancing in a corner of the room. Harry hurriedly averted his eyes and looked back at the huddle of Weasleys. They were each levitating a half full bottle of Firewhiskey, attempting to tip the liquid into their mouths without spilling.

As Harry watched, Ginny managed to swallow a large gulp of liquor, and immediately began choking. He ran over and grabbed the bottle out of the air before it fell, and then whacked her on the back a couple of times.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm just fine, Harry," Ginny giggled. She grabbed his hand. "Come play with us!"

"Yeah Harry," said Bill. "Come play. You have some catching up to do."

"Not that much," laughed Ginny. "We got caught . . . up in the garden!" She elbowed Harry. "Din't we? Get caught _up_?"

"Up," said Harry faintly. He had a feeling that Ginny was about to say something she shouldn't. Something about the garden. He grabbed his own bottle. "Let's drink!"

"Wait! I wanna play too!" Ron had somehow managed to get upright, and he grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her into the circle.

"On the count of three," said George, "ev'ryone raise your wand and . . . Three! I mean, drink! Three!" He started laughing hysterically, but was not so gone that he couldn't grab a bottle away from Fred. Fred grabbed at the air, trying to get it back, but knocked into Harry instead. Warm Firewhiskey spilled all down the front of his shirt.

"Whooops," said Fred. "I spilled." He looked at Harry and shrugged. "Don't wanna waste it, do you?" He grabbed his sister's arm. "Ginny, here's Harry. He spilled." He gave Ginny a push in Harry's direction. "Help him clean it up, K?" He gave her a drunken grin. "Maybe you can even suck on his shirt or something.'"

That didn't sound so bad to Harry. "Yeah Ginny, come suck!" he called to the room at large.

Ginny's eyes opened wide. Then she giggled. "Harry!" she said in a stage-whisper. "My parents are Right Here. See?" She pointed to the corner of the room, where Molly and Arthur were standing almost still, swaying to the music.

"Whew," said Harry, mopping his brow. "Tha' was _close_." He looked down at his shirt, and then at Ginny. "I'm wet," he said plaintively.

Ginny put her face up to his ear. "So am I," she whispered, too loudly.

Harry stopped tugging on his shirt for a second. He knew, somehow, that Ginny shouldn't be saying that sort of thing in a room full of brothers. There could be _pain_ involved. For him. Or worse, queshhhtions. He didn't wanna answer any queshhtions, right now. He looked around the room.

Angelina had wrapped her arm around George until his mouth left the neck of the bottle he was drinking from and found hers instead. Fred and Katie were similarly occupied in a corner of the room. Percy was snoring on the couch and Bill and Charlie were staring each other down and trying to tip the last bottle of Firewhiskey into the other's glass. Even completely pissed, they were much better at the game than either Ron or Seamus had been back at Harry's flat.

Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

 _Harry relaxed. No brothers were looking at him. Good._

Ginny raised her wand unsteadily. "Here," she said. "I'll jush say the drying-you-off charm now." She scrunched her eyes together. "How does it go?"

Harry grabbed her arm. "Never mind, I'll go get a new shirt from Ron."

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "I have a shirt for you, one you'll like. It's in my room."

Harry raised his eyebrows. This sounded interesting. He leaned closer to Ginny and asked conspiratorily. "Is it gonna be on you or off you?"

Ginny just smiled. "Come and see."

No one even looked up as the two of them left the room. Harry felt fuzzy and warm, walking up the familiar stairs of the Burrow behind Ginny. She had a really nice bum. So . . . grabbable. Maybe she'd let him touch it. Hmmm. He reached out and tried to lightly pat Ginny on the bottom, but miscalculated where it would be as she climbed the steps ahead of him. Instead, he tripped and ended up falling onto the landing right outside her door.

This struck him as extremely funny.

Ginny looked down at Harry, sitting on the floor giggling. "What'ryou doing down there?" She grabbed his hand and tugged. "Come on, Harry, come on! Don' you wanna see the shirt?"

Slowly, Harry got to his feet. Yes, he did wanna see the shirt. Especially if it was off of Ginny. There was something he needed to ask first, though. At the door of Ginny's room, his brain finally grasped what it was. He put his hand on Ginny's arm to stop her.

"Is this in the _Rules?_ "

"Course it is, silly. Don't you remember?"

Harry didn't remember anything, just then. But it sounded good to him. He followed Ginny into her room. There were two beds in there, and Harry flopped down on the second one, which he vaguely realized must be for Hermione. Ginny was nowhere to be seen.

That was odd.

"Ginny? Ginny? Where are you?" Harry was confused.

"Here," a muffled voice replied. Ginny's head appeared from her wardrobe. She was holding Harry's old Quidditch captain's jersey, which she tossed at him. "Put this on."

Harry was disappointed. "Awwww, I thought you were going to take of your shirt, Ginny."

Ginny walked over and punched him on the shoulder. "I did that already. Twice. Remember?"

"Well they say, third time's a charm." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Don't you want to charm me?" He got thoughtful for a moment and then gave Ginny what he supposed was a serious look. "I guess you a'ready charmed me though. Long time ago." He sighed dramatically and put the back of his hand on his forehead.

Ginny giggled and sat down on her bed. "No more'n you charmed me, you big, strong, sexy, Auror-man." She fell sideways onto her pillow. "All my teammates think you're _hot_. Leandra even wants to shag you hershelf . . . herself," Ginny corrected. "But I told her, I _told_ her, you're alllll mine." She snorted. "At leasht, your body is all mine. When it's not off saving people."

"All yours," echoed Harry. From his position on the bed, Ginny's room seemed to be rotating slowly. It was not unpleasant though. "All yours," he repeated. "Whenever you want it." Something Ginny said struck him then and he sat up. "They all think I'm hot?"

Ginny nodded. "Yep, yep, and . . ." she pretended to think. "Yep."

Harry pondered this for a moment. "Well, some of them are kinda cute, I guess. But none of them are anywhere near to you. You are defin'ly the cutest of them all." He gave her a sloppy grin. "An you have the _nicest_ breasts. And arse." He grunted in surprise as Ginny threw the Quidditch jersey over his head.

"And when have you seen any of my teammate's breasts or bums?" she demanded with as much indignity as she could muster from her position sideways on her bed.

"'Member last week? In the locker room after the game? Leandra was shaking her chest in my face. You 'member, don't you?"

"I remember you bending me over in the showers, tha'ss all. I thought you were Disa. . . disa . . . I thought you were hidden!"

"Not from Leandra," Harry muttered, remembering how the Chaser seemed to have seen right though his Disillusionment spell. "She's a sneaky one."

"Yeah, agreed Ginny. "She's always asking me and asking me. Queshtions."

"What about?"

"You. An me. Us. Ye know?"

Harry nodded. "Uh huh. So's Gavin. Tha' trainee. He thinks you're pretteeeee."

"Whaddaya tell him?" Ginny had rolled over on her bed and was looking at Harry, her chin in her hands. Suddenly her eyes opened wide. "You didn't tell him about the _rules_ , did you?"

Harry shook his head back and forth. "Nope. That's _our_ secret, right?"

"Right," said Ginny. "Our secret." She was quiet for a moment. "I told Leandra we used to go out. Tha'ss why she keeps asking and asking. 'Bout us. She asked why we broke up."

"Cause you're a Harpy," said Harry immediately. He giggled. "A Harpy hottie."

Ginny laughed too. "And you're an Auror. An . . . an . . . awesome Auror."

Harry nodded seriously at her. "We're both _awesome._ " He was feeling very relaxed, here on the extra bed in Ginny's room. It felt . . . natural, and yet, he was certain he'd never spent time in here like this before. Not that he could remember anyway.

"Was I ever here before?" he asked suddenly. "When we . . . you know, were _together._ "

"We're t'gether now, Harry," said Ginny. Her voice had gotten kind of slurred and sleepy. "Sort've." He saw her frown to herself. "But, I don't think you've been here before. Do you?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe." He thought he should know why he couldn't remember, but the thought kept slipping away from him, lost in the fuzzy swirls of Firewhiskey. He looked over at Ginny and saw her staring at him intently.

"If we didn't do this before, we should've," she said earnestly. "Iss nice." She was quiet for a moment. Then, "I think . . . I think I _miss_ it, you know?"

"I know," Harry agreed. "I miss it too. I think."

Ginny suddenly giggled. "I think I'm pissed!"

"Me too. Pissed pissed pissed," chanted Harry.

"And . . . " said Ginny, jumping up off the bed, "I think, no, I _know,_ I hafta go pee!"

That sounded like an excellent idea to Harry. "Me too!" he said, sitting up and pulling off his wet shirt. "Lemme just change clothes."

Ginny grabbed away the jersey. "Nah. You gotta see me with no top on. Now it's _my_ turn." She jumped away him as he lunged for the jersey and ran out of the room towards the bathroom. Harry stumbled after her, watching her bum move under the skirt he'd transfigured earlier.

"You still have a cute bum," he mumbled, following her into the Weasley's small loo. She turned around and looked at him. "Harry! I gotta pee! Get out!"

"Come on, Ginny," he whined back. "I won't look if you don't" He turned around towards the door and put his hands over his eyes.

"Fine," said Ginny. But only because I really really gotta go."

"And because you don't have any knickers," Harry pointed out.

"That too," said Ginny. "Now keep your eyes closed!"

By the time Ginny finished, Harry was jumping up and down, he had to go so bad. "Hurry up, Ginny," he begged, already tugging down his fly. "An' don't look. You _promished_."

Harry didn't even bother to make sure Ginny had her eyes closed first. He was almost done when her giggle startled him. He looked up to see her appraising him rather frankly. "Hey! No peeking!"

Ginny giggled again. "It's cute when it's little," she said.

"It's not _that_ little," said Harry petulantly. He looked over at Ginny and closed the lid on the commode before washing his hands. "At least, not for long." Settling himself down he reached out and pulled her onto his lap until she straddled him. From that position, Harry was delighted to see that her breasts were at the perfect height for nuzzling. Grinning up at her, Harry pushed up her jumper and buried his face back into Ginny's chest.

Ginny giggled and began to rock against him. "Everything's moving!" she cried.

Ginny rocked her pelvis into Harry's, back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. The light in the loo was awfully bright, so she closed her eyes. Harry's arms were around her lower back, moving her hips on top of his lap, and occasionally grinding her into him.

Dimly, Ginny's Firewhiskey-confused brain registered that Harry stopped rocking against her every so often, and that his head fell onto her chest and stayed there, before he sat back up and resumed his movements. _Axshually, resting my head would feel pretty good,_ she thought to herself. Her neck felt awfully tired all of a sudden. She dropped her chin down until it sat on Harry's hair and then sighed. Beneath her, Harry grunted and started rocking again.

Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and round and round and round and. . . _urrgh._ Things didn't feel so wonderful now. Shouldn't she have been feeling something . . . good down there? But all Ginny felt was her stomach, starting to roll uncomfortably with each of Harry's thrusts. Which fortunately, were coming less often and with less force.

"Harry," she said weakly. Opening her mouth wide didn't seem like such a good idea just then.

"Hmmm?" Harry panted below her, thrusting insistently again. Ginny couldn't even really feel his erection anymore. She just really, really wanted to get up, off Harry's lap, and out of the loo. She pushed her hands on his chest.

"Harry, stop," she said, unable to keep a moan of discomfort out of her voice.

Thankfully, Harry stopped immediately and looked up at her. "You alright, Ginny?" His voice was slurred. "Cause I know it's taking longer'n usual. I think it's the _Firewhiskey_ ," he added in whisper.

Ginny used the smallest voice she could. "Can we stop? I don't feel so good. All that rocking."

She lurched off Harry's lap and would have fallen to the floor, but somehow his Auror reflexes had survived the onslaught of alcohol and he caught her arm and helped her stay upright.

"Are you gonna be sick, Ginny? Cause if so, you should stay in the loo."

Ginny didn't even want to think about answering Harry, she was so desperate to get to her bed. "Bed," she mumbled, turning towards the door and pulling it open.

She wasn't really conscious of Harry following her, or aware that his arm, firmly around her waist, was the only thing that kept her from sliding into the wall. She only knew that she wanted to lie down as soon as possible. Harry paused at the door to her room, looking in at the two beds.

"Hermione isn't here," he said. "Must be sleeping up with Ron." He looked hesitantly at her. "Do you want me to . . ."

Ginny didn't listen to the rest of Harry's question, but pushed past him and flopped on top of her covers. She didn't realize that he covered her with a blanket or lowered the light, and she had no idea how long he stood silently in the doorway, considering. The room, and her bed, were spinning sickishly around her, and all Ginny could think for many long minutes was _please stop._

Mrs. Weasley took that moment to discover that Hermione was up in Ron's room, and not down in Ginny's where she was supposed to be. Tipsy as she was, she still managed to admonish her youngest son for attempting to steal his fiancee's honor before they were actually man and wife.

In short order, Hermione was ensconced on the camp bed in Ginny's room and Harry was marched up three more flights of stairs to Ron's. Ginny wasn't aware of any of this, however. By the time Hermione extinguished the lights in the room, she was already snoring lightly, having managed to ignore the spinning in her head enough to fall into a fitful, drunken sleep. Even if she'd been awake, her room was too far away from Ron's for her to have heard Harry's whispered "good night, Gin," as he too fell into bed and closed his eyes.


	11. The Aftermath

Waking up to the grating sound of Ron's snores was not an unusual occurrence for Harry; he'd gotten used to his best mate's loud sleeping habits over the six years they'd roomed together at Hogwarts, not to mention the year they were on the Horcrux hunt. Even now that they had their own bedrooms at their flat, Ron was sometimes loud enough that Harry could hear him through the shared wall. It usually didn't keep him awake though; he didn't even bother with silencing charms unless Hermione happened to be sleeping over as well.

But hearing Ron snoring loudly only two feet from his pounding head at 6 o'clock in the morning after a night of heavy drinking was a bit much for Harry. It felt as if Fred and George had taken up their old Beaters' bats and had spent most of the evening hitting him around the head. And that he'd afterwards spent a good hour or two in the Floo network, spinning dizzily all over England. Turning over, he realized that Hermione had managed to sneak back up to the room at some point and was now also lying only two feet away, barely dressed – with a naked leg wrapped around Ron's sleeping form in a way that Harry's bleary eyes and rolling stomach couldn't really handle right now. Bathroom. He definitely needed to get to a bathroom.

That of course meant that he needed to stand up first, and make his way down three flights of stairs. And hope that no one else's hangover had led them to already claim the Weasley's single loo. Harry supposed that if he was really desperate, he could Apparate back to his flat, but Apparating while hungover was nearly as dangerous as doing it drunk. Even if you didn't splinch yourself the chances of vomiting everywhere upon arrival were nearly 100%, at least in Harry's experience. He sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position.

The room spun crazily for a second and Harry pressed his hands against his temples and seriously considered lying back down. But his mouth felt like it was full of cotton and he really needed to pee, so he swallowed hard and reached for his glasses and wand and then slowly stood up, trying to ignore the sprawled bodies of his two best friends in the bed next to him.

The three flights of stairs down to the bathroom had never felt quite that long before, and Harry had to pause to get his bearings before pushing the door open and going in. After having a pee and splashing water into his mouth and on his face he felt only marginally better, but the thought of two more flights of twisting staircase down to the kitchen for a proper glass of water or tea was too daunting. He walked back out to the landing and considered just laying down there for a while. Someone would have to trip over him eventually, he supposed.

But the door to Ginny's room, just across the hallway, stood open, and it occurred to Harry that if Hermione was up in Ron's room then the camp bed would be free. _Perfect_. He walked as quietly as he could across the landing and peered in. Ginny was balled up in a corner of her bed like a child, mouth open, breathing heavily as she slept. The camp bed was nowhere to be seen.

 _Damn._

Harry was suddenly so tired and dizzy he didn't want to keep standing. Without really thinking about what he was doing he took one step, and then another, into Ginny's room.

Fuzzy images from the previous night, of the two them talking, flitted through his aching brain. _What had she said to him? About being there, with him?_ _Had she told him she liked it?_ It hurt his head too much to try to remember. Other memories were even more faint, of another day, laying together in Ginny's room. There had been only one bed, that time, and Harry had no idea what they had been talking about. But they were laughing, of that he was sure.

Ginny rolled over in her sleep and the blanket Harry had placed over her the night before slipped off. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist and Harry could see pretty much everything below it. Almost on instinct, he darted all the way into the room and pulled the cover back over her; the last thing she needed was for Molly to walk in and see her practically naked in bed.

After he covered her, Harry let his hand rest for probably longer than was necessary on Ginny's hip. In the tiny part of his brain that wasn't pounding like a herd of rampaging giants sat the thought that it would be more than nice to pick the blanket up again, lay down next to Ginny, and tuck it around both of them, preferably for three or four more hours.

 _But that would probably be against the rules._

He tried to convince himself that he only wanted to stay because he was feeling too ill to try to walk the three flights of stairs back up to Ron's room, especially with Hermione there. And his nausea and headache were nearly enough to justify pretty much anything, at that point. They hadn't specifically discussed what the rules allowed in cases of extreme emergency – and the way he was currently feeling definitely qualified as one, as far as Harry was concerned – but something stopped him from taking that final step to actually lie down on the empty half of Ginny's bed and pray that he could somehow fall asleep again.

It was that tiny little bit of brain, the bit that was not currently screaming at him to _never drink again_ , that was stopping him. That part of his brain knew that he wanted to lay down with Ginny for a reason completely unconnected to his hangover. Not sex – Harry's stomach rolled at the thought – but just because it would feel good to be there. Right, even.

 _But it's not right. Not now._

Harry sighed. Laying down together for something other than sex would definitely be off limits at any time, but especially here, after all of Ginny's instructions to make sure no one in her family figured out what was going on. Even though she'd teased him mercilessly the night before (and he'd returned the favor), and he was rather shocked that even Fred and George hadn't called them on it, Harry knew that Ginny really did not want to have to explain to her family why she was currently having sex with her ex-boyfriend, but no, they were not getting back together.

Harry backed away from Ginny's bed so he could lean tiredly against her doorframe. Things between them were actually quite good right now, and he didn't want to rock the boat. His job was allowing him to keep an eye on her, she was playing spectacularly and they were having bloody fantastic sex, and plenty of it, without all the pressure and guilt to be together he was sure he had caused a year before. In fact, it was probably the absence of that pressure that was relaxing her enough to play so well. Ginny was really happy. _And that makes me happy, too_ , he thought automatically. _If only I didn't need to lie down so badly right now_. . . _She'd probably understand, it's not like I want to_ _**do**_ _anything with her besides . . ._

Harry's mental war hadn't ended when Ginny shifted in the bed and opened her eyes. Almost immediately, she closed them again, groaning. Harry stopped in the doorway, unsure of what to do when Ginny put her hand on her head and opened her eyes just a crack.

"Harry?" she croaked.

 _"Umm, yeah," he said. She's going to wonder why you've been standing there watching her sleep, you dolt! He scrambled to come up with a plausible excuse but all he could think was, because it was nice._

But Ginny didn't seem interested in whether Harry should be in her room or not. She had rolled onto her back and was rubbing her eyes with both of her hands, taking small, short breaths. Harry wondered if she'd even heard him answer.

 _"Umm, are you okay?" Dumb question, Potter! She drank as much as you and look how you feel!_

"No," she whimpered. "I feel horrible."

"Maybe your mum has a potion that would help." _And he could snag some for himself too._

But Ginny shook her head delicately, even the slight movement making her wince. "There's no potion here," she whispered. "One of my mum's rules to keep us from drinking too much. If we need hangover potion we have to floo to the Apothecary and get it ourselves."

Harry swallowed hard at the thought of flooing anywhere in his current state. "Have you ever . . . ?" He couldn't finish the question.

"Fred and George did, once," she said, her eyes closed. "The shopkeeper sold them the potion and then made them stay and clean up their mess. Charlie actually made it there and back before he got sick all over the kitchen." She shuddered. "Now we all try to drink anywhere _but_ at home."

"Now you tell me," muttered Harry. In the back of his mind he'd assumed there would be a bottle of hangover potion available when he really needed it, and finding out he'd have to Apparate or floo to get relief made his head pound that much more insistently.

The room got quiet. Ginny rolled back onto her side and curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. Harry thought he should say something else, but he wasn't sure where to start.

"Umm, last night was fun," he began hesitantly.

Ginny didn't answer. Her eyes were still screwed shut and the look on her face was pure misery.

"Do you, uhh, want me to leave?" he asked.

"Don't care," she muttered.

Harry knew she wasn't really upset with him, it was just the hangover, but he couldn't help but feel a little stung by her words. _Maybe it would be better if I just left. I have the day off, I can go back to my flat and sleep until this afternoon._

Harry was just going to tell Ginny he'd see her back at the Harpies stadium on Monday when her eyes flew open and she lurched to a sitting position, her pale face rapidly turning a sickly shade of green.

"Loo," she managed to gasp before stumbling to her feet and pushing past him into the hallway.

Harry followed, watching as Ginny collapsed over the toilet in the bathroom and began retching; she didn't even manage to close the door first. He stood frozen, steps from the door, wondering what to do.

He and Ginny had gotten drunk together several times after the War, and always spent the following day together, nursing each other out of their respective agonies. But she had just told him she didn't care if he stayed, and Harry wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. _Should he go in? Would she want him to help?_

In front of him, Ginny moaned and sat back against the bathroom wall, wiping her sweaty brow with the back of her hand. She was trembling all over.

The trembling decided him. They were _friends_ , dammit. And that's what Ginny needed, right now.

Harry stepped over Ginny and into the loo just as she leaned over the toilet and began vomiting again. He closed and locked the door and set silencing charms, all the while ignoring the churning in his own stomach. When Ginny finally leaned back again, Harry was waiting with a wet washcloth and glass of water. He brushed her hair away from where it stuck, sweaty, to her face and silently handed her the cup.

She took it just as silently, rinsing her mouth and then taking several hesitant swallows.

"Thanks," she finally said, her voice rusty. "That took me by surprise."

"Me too," he said. "I'm just glad you made it to the loo."

Ginny gave the barest snort and then winced. "I need to lie down."

Harry put his hand on her arm. "Here? Or would you rather go back to bed?"

Ginny considered for a second. "Bed, I think. But maybe with a dustbin nearby."

Harry helped her to her feet and back to her bedroom, suddenly feeling a strong sense of déjà vu from the night before. Even in her dizzy state, Ginny must have felt it too, because she looked curiously at him as he pulled back the covers on her bed. "Didn't we just do this?"

"Kind of," Harry replied. "I'm surprised you remember."

Ginny shook her head. "Me too," she said, almost to herself. "I thought that was one of the . . ." her voice trailed off and she looked nervously at Harry. "Never mind," she said quickly.

She had been about to say something more, but Harry didn't push her. Not feeling as terrible as she obviously did, right now. And there was something else. Something about this room and how comfortable he felt there. It had been obvious last night, even though his memories of what they had talked about were hazy. For an instant, the desire to recapture that feeling overwhelmed him and once again he hesitated at the edge of Ginny's bed.

 _If he just got in, with her, it would all be all right._

But the urge left as soon as it came and he shook his head to himself. There wasn't anything that needed to be made _all right -_ , everything was all right already. And Ginny would definitely not appreciate having to share her bed right now. She'd probably vomit on him or something.

Harry tucked the blankets around her and then stood awkwardly, watching as she closed her eyes again. He was turning to leave the room when she spoke.

"Harry?"

He turned around. "Yes?"

Ginny swallowed. "Will you stay? For a little while? Just until I fall asleep."

His answer was automatic. "Of course."

I'm sorry I was cross, before. I just didn't feel good at all."

Harry chuckled. "I know. I've been there myself." He grimaced. "Actually, I _am_ there myself."

Ginny opened her eyes. "Oh, you must feel horrible too!" she said. "And I . . ."

"Don't worry about it," he said hurriedly. "That's what friends are for, right?"

"Friends, right," she said quietly. She looked at him. "Are you really sick?"

Harry shrugged. "I'll survive." He looked around her room. The chair that normally sat at her desk was gone, no doubt it had been removed to make room for the camp bed. He began lowering himself to the floor, intending to lean back against Ginny's bed and close his eyes himself.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"D'you want to . . ."

Harry opened his eyes and looked back at Ginny. She was sitting up on one elbow and biting her lip. "Do I want to what?"

"Umm, do you want to . . . take one of my pillows? You know, to sit on. I'm sure the floor . . . well, it's hard."

"Thanks, Ginny, that would be great." Harry took the pillow and sighed quietly to himself, leaning back against the bed. Above him, Ginny sighed too and closed her eyes.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny lay in bed having a mental war with herself. She had no right to have asked Harry to stay with her, but the words had slipped out before she could stop them. And of course, he'd agreed. He hadn't even protested sitting on the floor of her room even though Ginny was certain he felt nearly as terrible as she did.

She'd come very close to asking him to lay down with her, and the selfish part of her brain was still considering it. Harry had always been a very comforting presence when she was sick or upset and she wished she could justify her need for that comfort right now. But she'd already asked too much of him. He was already protecting her as an Auror and from what she could remember, if it wasn't for him, she would have probably spent most of last night sleeping in hallway. And he'd taken care of her when she was sick just like he would have when they were dating, even though they were only friends now.

The last thing Harry needed was for her to confuse things by asking more from him. Because he would give it to her, she knew. He'd hold back her hair if she got sick and get her fresh water or tea and toast, and even climb into her bed and stroke her hair until she finally fell asleep, and it would be too easy for Ginny to start relying on him for things she had no right to, and interfering with his work, and adding pressure he didn't need.

Ginny sighed. They were in a good place now. Harry was surpassing even more experienced Aurors at work; her father had told her there was even talk of him moving up to be Kingsley's second in a year or so. She couldn't miss the way his eyes lit up with excitement as he patrolled the Harpies' stadium (or wherever the team happened to be) or when he faced some new danger or investigation in this whole Quidditch mess. He loved being the one to try to unravel the mystery, and just because Ginny was currently reaping the benefits of having him around more didn't give her the right to take advantage.

As if sensing her thoughts, Kingsley's Patronus suddenly dropped down in the middle of Ginny's room.

Harry's head jerked up and he straightened immediately into an alert position. From her place on the bed, Ginny could see Harry wince for a minute with the movement, but a second later, he was all-Auror.

"Harry, we have a situation developing. I know it's your day off, so I can ask Meyers to come in instead. But I wanted to give you first crack at it – it's regarding our friends . . ."

Ginny shuddered and put her hands over her ears as Kingsley's voice suddenly changed to an incomprehensible screech. Harry kept nodding as if he hadn't noticed anything at all and Ginny realized the sensitive parts of the message must be charmed so that only Harry could hear them. A minute later, Kingsley's voice returned.

". . . floo me in the next ten minutes with your decision." The Patronus faded away.

On the floor, Harry sighed and rubbed roughly at his eyes and then kept his face hidden in his hands. Ginny could hear him breathing heavily. "You heard that?" he finally asked.

"Well, part of it," she replied. "Before it got bungled."

"Right. Something is going on in Diagon Alley with a group of men I've been watching. One of our informants said they are meeting again, but not at their regular pub. Kingsley thinks they know we suspect them."

"Do you have to go?" Ginny kept her voice neutral.

Harry sighed. "I don't _have_ to go, strictly speaking. It's my day off, and I feel like crap and Meyers is on call and could handle it . . ." he trailed off.

"But you want to go." Ginny supplied. She knew him too well to think he'd let someone else take the assignment for him.

"I don't know, maybe." Harry sounded oddly non-committal. Ginny assumed it was the hangover. "I _should_ be the one to go. I'm most familiar with the suspects and their habits. And Meyers . . ."

"He's not that good?"

"No, no, nothing like that," said Harry hastily. "It's just that his wife had their first baby about a month ago. I'm sure he'd like to stay at home today."

"So you should go," said Ginny firmly. She forced her voice to sound light and teasing. "I mean, you've already done your duty here by holding my head while I was sick. I don't need you to watch me sleep too."

"But you asked . . . I mean, I though you wanted . . ." Harry didn't finish his sentence.

 _I have no right to ask him to stay._ The thought was there even though Ginny did her best to ignore it. _He's got to stop feeling guilty about leaving._ She sat up a bit and looked Harry straight in the eye.

"It's _fine_ , Harry. I'm fine. I'm practically asleep anyway. If you hurry, maybe you can convince my mum to give you a bit of her secret stash of hangover potion that she keeps just for herself and my dad. We all know she has a bottle somewhere."

Harry still looked torn. Ginny pushed gently on his back with her foot. "They need you, Harry. And I know you want to go."

Harry gave her a resigned smile. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess I have to, huh?"

He stood up slowly, hesitantly, and Ginny recognized from his movements that he was testing his balance and the settled-ness of his stomach before moving too fast.

"Right, I can do this," she heard him mutter to himself, and felt a stab of guilt that they had gotten so drunk last night.

"Are you going to be okay?" she wanted to be more comforting, but even the small amount of effort to sit up was making her dizzy and she really didn't want to have to go running back to the loo.

Harry grimaced. "I guess I have to be, don't I?" He sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll be better once I get some hangover potion and can focus better." He looked at her. "You really think your mum has some? Cause I don't think I can face the floo without it."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. She probably took some this morning and is now down in the kitchen, way too chipper, making breakfast."

"K, thanks." Harry suddenly leaned closer to her the bed, an odd look on his face. For one wild second, Ginny thought he was going to kiss her. But his hand merely brushed a bit of hair off her cheek before he straightened back up.

"Right then. Well. I guess I'd better go find your mum, and then I'll be off." He gave her a small smile.

"I'll see you back at the stadium on Monday, right?" This time, Ginny couldn't quite keep the tremor out of her voice.

Harry smiled again. "Of course. And I hope we both feel a lot better by then." He gave a sudden smirk. "After all, most of last night was bloody brilliant, and I'd certainly like to do . . . well, most everything, again."

Ginny did her best to return his cocky look. "Only if you're lucky, Potter. Very, very, lucky."

"We'll keep our fingers crossed for luck then, shall we?"

Ginny nodded. "Definitely."

One more smile, and Harry was gone. Ginny rolled over in her bed, considering. She was still lying silently five minutes later when a tiny crystal bottle came whizzing through her door. A note was attached.

 _I saved you some. Don't tell your mum! Love, Harry_

Ginny grinned to herself and gulped down the hangover potion. Taking care of her again. She nodded to herself. It had been right to send him to work.


	12. The Phial

An hour later Ginny finally felt human enough to think about going back to her flat. The several sips of hangover potion hadn't been a full dose, but it had settled her stomach a bit and lessened the headache so that it was merely irritating, and not blinding. With a flash of guilt, she realized that Harry must not have taken his own full share in order to leave some for her, and she made a mental note to find a way to thank him.

 _Well, I know one way to thank him that he'd probably enjoy._

She thought about that as she began trying to transfigure the skirt and jumper she'd slept (and vomited) in back into her original trousers and a less wrinkled shirt. Her hangover was still lingering in the form of random bouts of dizziness and she quickly decided that the jeans and t-shirt she transfigured were fine, if a bit baggy and faded. Kind of like she felt at the moment.

But. Back to the previous evening. The teasing and banter and sex she and Harry had shared had been fun – as always. There was no denying their physical connection – and Ginny cringed to think just how obvious they had been to the rest of her family. It was yet another reason not to drink at the Burrow; there were too many opportunities to get caught in a compromising position that her brothers were not likely to let her forget. Ever.

 _Let's just hope they were as focused on Ron as they seemed to be last night_ , she thought to herself. Because she was really not in any shape to respond to her family's prying, whether in the form of innuendo (the twins) or point blank questioning (her mum and Hermione). There was nothing to say that would please anyone anyway. Ginny could just imagine the conversation:

"Oh yes, Harry and I just shagged in the garden. That was after I flashed him in front of Ron and the twins and he banished my knickers. It was all in good fun, though, no need to start planning another wedding." Yes, that would be a _really_ fun conversation to have.

The problem was that her family just didn't understand Harry the way she did. It had been especially hard when things had gotten really busy for him after the War. Ginny had been living in the Harpies' training dorms, as all new players were required to do for six months, and they had struggled to figure out how and when they could be together. It had led to a lot of stress for Harry, Ginny knew. He had needed to be working as hard as possible; the Auror department was in a shambles, and he was just . . . better than anyone else at getting things done. She wanted so much for him to be happy, and watching him try to divide his time had gotten to be too much.

Her family had ignored all that. Ron saw him at Auror training, of course, and Hermione had been content to see him only every couple of weeks. Her mum had planned more and more family dinners and Harry had dutifully attended every one, probably ignoring hours of work in the process. Ginny had finally told her mother that her own rigorous practice schedule made weekly dinners just impossible, and neither she nor Harry had attended another until after they had broken up.

 _And it's not like they've been denied his company, he's here as often as I am these days,_ she thought, jerking on her shoes and attempting to straighten the snarls out of her hair with a futile wave of her wand. _Hmph. I need a proper shower._ But the door to the bathroom was shut and Ginny could hear Ron's miserable groaning from inside; clearly she wouldn't be getting in there any time soon.

Mentally thanking Merlin that the loo had not been occupied an hour earlier, she walked back into her room. The bottle of hangover potion was still laying on her bed and Ginny picked it up idly, thinking that if there was a drop or two left she could somehow multiply it into enough to give Ron some relief.

 _Love, Harry._ The words, which she had mostly ignored earlier in her haste to get the potion into her stomach, now jumped out at her. Ginny sighed. She couldn't really remember the last time she'd thought of Harry loving her, or saying the word to her. But it was nice to see it again, just the same. At fifteen or sixteen she might have analyzed the note with her girlfriends for hours, trying to find some hidden meaning in the letters, the flow of the ink, the curl at the end of his "y". Now she knew better. She could even admit that she loved Harry too, after all, she would never, could never, have sex with someone she didn't care about.

Ginny straightened the blanket on her bed. Best to put any other thoughts out of her mind. She was proud of herself, actually. Proud of both of them. They were making this work the right way, this time. It was all good.

Ginny managed to escape the Burrow with a minimum of fuss soon afterwards. Her mother _had_ given her a scrutinizing look, as if she suspected that Ginny looked far too well for someone who had spent the evening drinking with her brothers, but thankfully, she confined her comments to a quick inquiry about how Harry was feeling. Ginny feigned complete ignorance and suggested that her mother floo the Apothecary and warn them that Ron might be on his way before she set out to Apparate back to her flat.

 _Didn't Harry always say that Apparating with a hangover was almost as dangerous as doing it drunk?_ The potion she had consumed was not enough to keep Ginny from rocking dizzily when she arrived outside her flat, but she managed to get control of her balance without too much difficulty before crossing the wards and going inside.

It was still early and a team day off, so all of Ginny's four flat-mates were home. Evie and Kennedy were making breakfast for themselves, the door to Katrina's room was shut, and Leandra was lounging on the sofa, reading a playbook. She looked up with interest when Ginny came in the door.

"So, where were you all night, missy?" she asked in a suggestive voice that made Ginny's head swim.

"At my parents' house," said Ginny shortly. Despite Leandra's constant prying and innuendo, Ginny usually got along fairly well with her because she was able to laugh off her behavior; it was so unlike her own. But she really didn't have the energy right now. The smell of toast coming from the kitchen was exactly what her stomach needed at the moment and she was headed that way when Leandra spoke again.

" _That's_ what you wear home for a visit with your mum and dad? It looks like you've been wrestling with a hippogriff."

Ginny stopped and looked down at the shirt she had transfigured. _It really was rather awful. Better add "don't transfigure" to the list of things not to do when drunk or hungover._ She shrugged. "Well, umm, my jumper got kind of . . . messed up. So I transfigured this instead." That might have been enough to get her off the hook, but of course, she had to blush, which gave everything away.

"Messed up? How?" Leandra wouldn't let up; Ginny suspected she would rather interrogate Ginny all day than read the Harpies' playbook.

"I got drunk. With my _family_ ," said Ginny, emphasizing the last word. "To celebrate my brother's engagement."

"Do you want me to try to fix it? I'm good at transfiguration." Leandra was looking at Ginny sincerely. It was true, Leandra did seem to have a gift with clothing; she always managed to transform her rather ordinary outfits into more exciting (and tighter) garments when the team went out to pubs.

Ginny hesitated only a second. _And then I can go get some toast._ Without another thought, she pulled the misshapen shirt over her head and tossed it to Leandra; given the amount of time the team spent in common changing rooms and showers, being seen in the flat in only her bra did not bother Ginny in the least. She started to turn away.

"Woohooo! Which one of your _brothers_ gave you _that?_ " Leandra had sat up straight and was pointing at Ginny's chest with a grin. Her voice was loud enough that Evie and Kennedy came out of the kitchen, so all three of them were there to see what Ginny had somehow failed to notice before; a lovely red and purple love-bite peeking out from the edge of her bra. She turned an even brighter shade of pink.

"Well, Harry was there too," she said with a forced casualness. "He and my brother Ron are best mates." Ginny shrugged, as if to convey that the fact that Harry had been sucking on her chest was no more interesting than any of the (probably) dozens of men from whom Leandra and the others had collected their own hickeys.

"Magic lips, that boy has, huh?" said Leandra. "You did tell me he's a good kisser, right?"

Something clicked with Leandra's question, a thought that had been teasing along in Ginny's head ever since the other Chaser had last questioned her about Harry. Suddenly, she wanted more than anything to be alone.

"Right," Ginny managed to choke out. "But if you'll excuse me, I'm still not feeling great. I'm going back to bed until the hangover potion kicks in." She practically ran back to her room, not bothering to see whether anyone was looking at her or not.

Once in her room, Ginny fell heavily onto her bed. Leandra had asked her once before, whether Harry was a good kisser, but the question hadn't registered. Ginny had answered yes, but something had been bugging her ever since. And now she knew what it was.

 _Harry hasn't kissed me at all. Not this time._

 _It bothered her more that she felt she had the right to be. So what? We haven't kissed? It's not like we're in a relationship, right? This is how it's supposed to be._

But she couldn't hide from the fact that she'd thought Harry had been about to kiss her earlier that morning, and if she really admitted it to herself, she would not have minded it. Kissing Harry – when they had been truly together – had been lovely. At least, Ginny was pretty sure it had been lovely. Involuntarily, her eyes moved to her shelf, and the carefully protected crystal phial.

Before she could even think about what she was doing, Ginny was on her feet, grabbing it off the shelf, her hand on the stopper.

 _It couldn't hurt to put them back for just a little while. As a nice treat. And then I'll take them back out again._

But before she could even wave her wand over the bottle, the image of Harry, intently listening to Kingsley's Patronus, rose in her mind. Even hungover as he had been, Harry had still been completely professional. He'd wanted to go handle the investigation, _his_ investigation, no matter how he felt.

 _But I had asked him to stay._ She flushed to think about how needy she must have seemed to him. _And he almost didn't go, because of me._ Ginny was sure of it.

She was sure of something else, too. If she'd been right, earlier, if Harry _had_ thought about kissing her – if they _had_ actually kissed – she would have wanted him to keep kissing her. She wouldn't have wanted him to leave, and she probably would have made things uncomfortable for him. Exactly the things she had promised herself, almost a year ago, that she wouldn't do.

 _It's better that I don't think about it anymore. Don't even start down that path._

"We are Friends with Benefits, Ginevra," she counseled herself out loud. "No pressure, remember?"

With a sigh, she pushed the stopper firmly down on the bottle and put it back on her shelf. With a wave of her wand, the safety spells went back on too. She was determined to keep it fun and light between Harry and herself. No matter what.


	13. At the Office

Harry frowned at the report before him and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. He'd been reading the thing for an hour and it still wasn't making any sense. Four Aurors had spent nearly a week organizing and cataloguing all the suspicious activity that had been surrounding the Quidditch leagues for the past two months and even though it all pointed to something – or someone – sinister coordinating it all, nothing in the report suggested a reason for any of it. He'd left the Burrow eight days ago to check in on a suspicious meeting that was supposed to take place at a pub called Smokey Joe's – a Muggle establishment near the Leaky Cauldron usually frequented by Americans. But he'd no sooner entered the front door than a number of loud cracks from a back room told him that anyone of interest had immediately Apparated away. He'd had to modify the memory of the confused waitress who'd been serving the "strange group of men", but only after he'd questioned her – and learned nothing particularly helpful. The only thing she could remember was that the men seemed to be talking about birds a lot – a statement that did not sit well with Harry at all.

Harry's eyes skimmed again down the list of teams and the specific activity each had suffered. All the teams in the league had been targeted for attack at least once, with all manner of threats and hazards used – poisonous gasses, dangerous plants, charmed doorways and other menacing dangers. But nothing added up.

As he did every time he looked at the statistics, he couldn't help but feel dread when he saw the team at the top of the list. The Holyhead Harpies had suffered more attacks than any other, closely followed by the Tutshill Tornadoes and the newest team in the league, the Earlham Eagles. Harry had heard that the Eagles owner was so unnerved by the injuries that kept befalling his players that he was already looking for a buyer for the team. As it was, the league had agreed to a ten-day break in matches, to give the Aurors time to try to put all the pieces together. There were only three days left before games resumed, and Harry felt no closer to an answer than he had a week ago.

But the Harpies. Harry didn't know if it was because whomever was behind the attacks thought that an all-female team would be an easier target, or if there was a more specific reason, but the Harpies had been the victims of nearly twice as many "incidents" as some of the other teams, and it was getting more than merely concerning. There was talk of ending the season early if the culprits behind the attacks weren't caught.

Harry tried to make his brain focus again on the list of potions that had been used in various explosions during actual matches, but the names and numbers kept swimming before his eyes. He finally gave in and closed the stack of parchment before taking off his glasses and resting his head tiredly in his hands.

He'd been stuck here, at his office in the Ministry of Magic, for over a week now, and the strain of being here, instead of out in the field trying to actually figure something out was getting to him. He knew paperwork was part of the job, and that here he had access to labs and evidence and regular discussions among the Aurors about _what it all meant_ , but he still couldn't get rid of the urgency he felt to get back out there, into the middle of the action, before the next attack.

Really, he just wanted to see Ginny again.

Harry sighed. The hours of boredom caused by endless paperwork left plenty of room in his head for other musings, and after a day or two of trying to deny it, he finally gave in and admitted to himself that he missed her.

 _You want to make sure she's safe, that's really what this is about._

That was partly true, at least. He'd been trying to convince himself that concern for Ginny's safety was really motivating his thoughts about her. _He owed it to the Weasleys to keep an eye on her, right?_

And moreover, he was just doing his job when he let himself get concerned about her safety. After the Harpies had emerged as the main targets – it was only natural that he'd want to keep a closer eye on that team – hell, it was expected of him as an Auror. Anything less and he'd be shirking his duties.

 _You aren't seeking out Leandra or Evie or any of the other players, though._

The little voice would not go away, no matter how Harry tried to tell it that he considered Ginny just another Harpy. Not that he was slacking in his work to protect all of them – he'd barely slept in the last few weeks, both when he was still in the field and more recently while he'd been spending innumerable hours at the office. This was how he often got when a case was particularly difficult.

The only difference was that it felt personal this time, and that made it much harder. Harry knew he was known around the office as being an Auror willing to work extra hours so that others didn't have to; his habits were particularly appreciated by some of the more senior Aurors who had families. Working that hard had originally made it easier not to crowd Ginny when she was first getting used to playing professional Quidditch, and after they had broken up, it was just something to occupy his extra time.

But in the last month or two, he'd had something quite different to occupy his extra time, and much as he tried not to admit it, having Ginny back in his life – even just a "friend" – had lessened his interest in covering extra shifts for other Aurors.

Which was why he was continuing to do it, of course. There had already been too many times that Harry had subtly manipulated his schedule so that he "happened" to be investigating something near where the players were training, or assigned himself a particular task that would put him in proximity to Ginny.

It had almost gotten out of control once. Yes, there had been a legitimate need to investigate the potions and salves the trainers used to relieve players' muscle aches, but a couple of weeks ago Harry had watched three different Harpies go in and out of the training room for treatment before he'd finally "decided" that it was time to observe how the ingredients were used during a massage. Ginny had almost been late for a team meeting, all because he couldn't control his randiness. Not to mention that it was against their "rules" for him to do anything so un-spontaneous. He knew he wasn't being fair and even though it had taken all his self-control not to seek her out during his week in the office, he'd been able to do it.

"Harry?" Senior Auror Scott Meyers stuck his head into Harry's office. "Hey, I picked up a bunch of sandwiches and things at that new shop across the street." He held up a large paper bag. "You interested? I know it's a bit early, but I have to teach an evidence workshop this afternoon and I'm in a hurry." He grinned. "And your secretary strongly suggested that I make sure you eat something before you, and I quote, 'waste away from working too hard.'"

Harry waved his wand and banished all the papers from his desk. "Definitely. I can't make heads or tails of this report right now." He conjured another chair for Scott. "And I wouldn't want Astella to worry – she's almost as bad as Molly Weasley when it comes to making sure I eat enough."

An hour later, Harry was feeling a bit more relaxed. Scott had amused him with stories of his new baby daughter and Harry had been able to add his own anecdotes about his godson Teddy, whom he made a point to see nearly every week. Heading back from a quick meeting in the Auror department's lower level laboratory, he had just about convinced himself that he was being silly, staying away from Ginny the way he was. There was no reason at all he shouldn't contact her, he thought – they were friends after all – when there she was, walking away from the lifts with her father.

A multitude of thoughts flew through Harry's brain: a first, heady rush of excitement at seeing her again, relief that she appeared to be completely fine and unharmed, an almost immediate tightening between his legs that only increased when she unconsciously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, exposing her pale, soft neck . . .

And disappointment. Ginny was standing there, putting on her outer cloak, kissing her father goodbye, and turning towards the floos. She'd been in the Ministry of Magic, upstairs in her father's office by the looks of it, she knew Harry had been working here all week, she was getting ready to leave, _and she hadn't bothered to come say hello._

 _Had she seen him? Should he acknowledge her? Maybe she needs to get back to the stadium. I should just let her . . ._

"Ginny, what a surprise!" Harry's legs and mouth completely ignored his internal thoughts and before he even knew what he was doing he'd walked over to Ginny and put his hand on her arm.

"Harry!" If Ginny had been trying to avoid him she certainly didn't show it in the wide smile that lit up her face when she saw him standing in front of her.

"Yeah, I just happened to be here, walking up from the labs, and I saw you standing here, with your dad, you know, and I thought I should say hello . . . so, hello." Harry's words came out in a rush and Ginny looked at him with an amused expression.

"Hello," she responded. "I've just had lunch with my dad. It had been a while since I'd been to his office."

"Right," said Harry. He turned to Arthur. "Hello, Mr. Weasley." For some reason, although Harry was now perfectly comfortable calling Ginny's mum "Molly," he still couldn't bring himself to her father by his first name.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Arthur, Harry? Especially now – Ginny's been telling me all about how you've been so busy protecting her and the rest of the team."

"All part of the job, Mr. Wea . . . I mean, Arthur," said Harry uncomfortably. Talking about what his job required him to do for the Harpies drifted a little too close to exactly what Harry was doing for a particular _member_ of the team, off hours. Ginny could obviously read his thoughts because she grinned wickedly at him and then fingered the collar of her traveling cloak, loosening it a bit.

Harry swallowed. "Well, ummm, I'd better be getting back to work. I, uhh, still have a lot of paperwork to get through."

"Right then, Harry," said Arthur. "I don't want to keep you from your work – not with everything that's been going on lately." He shook Harry's hand then, holding on an extra moment and looking Harry square in the eye. "You don't know how much better it makes Molly and I feel, knowing that you're the one keeping an eye on our daughter here. There's no better man for the job, that's for certain."

"I really appreciate that," Harry managed. "I'll do my best sir, you know that."

"I know you will, Harry," Arthur turned back to Ginny. "And I'll see you again soon, okay, hon? In the meantime, be extra careful and do whatever Harry tells you to. I want you to stay safe."

Harry was impressed that Ginny didn't roll her eyes at her father's speech. Instead she gave him a hug and said "of course, daddy," before waving him off to the lifts and turning to smile at Harry.

Harry stood awkwardly in front of her. _Now what the hell do I do?_

 _"Er, do you want me to walk you to the floo?" As if she can't make it there herself – its ten feet away._

It may have been his imagination, but Ginny's expression seemed to fall ever so slightly. He hurried to fill the silence. "Or! Um, you could . . . come see my office, if you wanted."

Ginny's smile returned, but she still looked a bit uncomfortable. "Only if you want me to . . . if I wouldn't be interrupting anything important . . ." her voice trailed off.

Harry let his face relax into an honest smile. "Only about a thousand hours of reviewing a sleep-inducing report," he said. "And didn't your dad just tell you to do whatever I say?" Impulsively he grabbed her hand and tugged. "Come on."

Ginny smiled a real smile this time. "Okay."

Awkwardness returned while they were waiting for the lift to arrive. They hadn't seen each other since Harry had left the Burrow – still hungover – over a week earlier, and Harry wondered if the two of them needed to talk about anything. But he couldn't stop thinking about why Ginny hadn't come to see him herself – she'd been only two floors away from his office, and how hard would it have been to pop in for a minute?

 _Leave it, Harry. Don't push her, remember? Anyway, she's coming up now._

"So . . . why didn't you come up to say hello? Since you were here, after all."

 _Way to go, Potter._

Ginny looked surprised. "I thought I shouldn't interrupt you," she began uncertainly. "My dad said he'd heard you've been here practically around the clock."

"All the more reason I could use a break – your type of break especially." Harry kept his voice deliberately light, but somehow he suspected that Ginny could see through his words to the need underneath.

Ginny looked at him for a long moment, as if considering something. Then she smirked. "Ohhh, you mean _that kind_ of break, do you, Potter?"

Harry relaxed. _They were going to do this._ He decided to tease her a bit back, and feigned confusion. "Huh? What do you mean – _that kind_ of break? Is there more than one kind, Ginny? I mean, I just took a lunch break with Meyers – is that the kind of _break_ you mean?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and his stomach plunged when her eyes traveled slowly and appraisingly down his body – stopping for a long moment at the area below his belt.

"I wouldn't say lunch, exactly," she said slowly. Her voice had gotten very quiet now that they were on the lift and other people were around. "Dessert, maybe. I think I need at least a _taste_ of something, you know?"

Harry swallowed hard as they got off the lift. "Umm, my office is just down this way," he said, gesturing.

"Yes, Harry, I know," said Ginny with amusement, following him in and shutting the door.

"Colloportus," Harry muttered, waving his wand. He was already shrugging off his robes and fumbling with his belt. "This is probably a very _bad_ idea," he said, hoping desperately that Ginny didn't agree with him. She pulled off her traveling cloak and tossed it on the chair Harry had conjured earlier before reaching up under the skirt she was wearing and yanking down her knickers.

"Why is this a bad idea?" she asked.

Harry couldn't answer for a second – he was too busy watching Ginny lick her lips and begin to rub herself, under her skirt.

"Uhh . . .er . . . because . . ." Harry began. It had been a _very_ long week and he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. Ginny took that moment to use her free hand to start unbuttoning her shirt and Harry gave up trying to speak – _talking is overrated sometimes,_ he thought to himself, shuffling over to her as quickly as he could, given that his trousers were down around his ankles.

Ginny giggled at him and lifted her skirt higher, giving Harry a single, momentary glimpse of red curls before the door to his office suddenly rattled, freezing both of them in their tracks.

 _Knock knock knock. Harry? Are you in there? Kingsley._

Harry groaned. He suddenly remembered why trying to have sex in his office was such a bad idea - he couldn't close his office door for two minutes for _any_ reason – even a quick kip – without someone wanting to get in immediately.

Kingsley banged again – more insistently. Harry was reaching down to tug up his pants - and trying to come up with some legitimate reason that he and Ginny would have been alone with the door locked – when she suddenly batted his hand away and jerked her head towards his desk. "Just sit!" she hissed, sliding out of sight beneath it.

Harry grabbed up his robes and hastily threw them around himself before lowering himself into his chair. He released the lock on the door and arranged his face into what he hoped was an appropriately thoughtful expression.

Which of course was difficult, given that he was sitting at his desk in his Auror's robes and no pants, with a half naked woman at his feet.

"Come in!" he called. As the door was opening Harry realized that his desk was still completely empty of the papers he had banished earlier. He had just managed to reactualize the report he'd been reading when Kingsley walked in, his expression wary.

"Is everything okay, Potter? Why was your door locked?"

Harry was still rattled. "Oh, umm, you know, just trying to get a little peace and quiet without interruptions. From the trainees, I mean," he added hastily. _Not a good idea to tell one's boss that he's an interruption._ He waved at the parchment in front of him. "I'm trying to make sense of the Quidditch report."

Kingsley nodded. "Ahh, yes. The Quidditch report. Do you have a moment to talk about that? All the trainees are in an evidence workshop so I can promise you no interruptions for a while." He smiled at Harry, who suddenly had the sneaking suspicion that the head Auror somehow knew that Ginny was under his desk _and had just moved her hand up to rest on his bare thigh._

"Of course I have time," Harry said. He was horrified to hear his voice squeak at the end. He cleared his throat lustily. "Sorry, frog. Please, sit down."

Too late, he realized that the chair he was showing Kingsley still had Ginny's traveling cloak laying across it. _Shit, shit shit!_ Not only did it clearly belong to a woman, but the double H logo of the Holyhead Harpies was emblazoned across the back.

"What's this?" asked Kingsley, picking it up.

"Evidence," gasped Harry, swallowing hard. Ginny's hand was now firmly on his rapidly hardening penis. She was right between his legs; Harry could feel her head resting against his inner thigh, her hair trailing down his leg.

 _Think of Kingsley, think of Kingsley,_ he chanted silently to himself. The man was still looking at him curiously and Harry struggled for control. "Umm, _Ginny_ Weasley gave it to me because . . . er . . . I wanted to have it tested for residue. From that last explosion of muscle-freezing gas."

Ginny's hand was moving up and down now, and even though part of Harry's brain was screaming at him to push her away until he could get Kingsley out of his office, the rest of him was concentrating on the way her hand felt, moving on his smooth skin, and the tiny pulsing thrusts he couldn't help but make into her hand, and which he hoped were not obvious in the part of his body that was above the edge of the desk.

"Shouldn't this be down in the lab?" Kingsley was frowning, moving the cloak gingerly to an evidence cart he conjured.

"Um, well, she just dropped it off," Harry managed. "She was at the Ministry to have lunch with her father and I ran into her." Ginny's hand had stopped moving, and Harry allowed himself to relax a fraction. She lifted it away from his penis, and he breathed out, straightening himself in his chair. "What did you want to talk about?" he asked Kingsley calmly.

A moment later, Ginny replaced her fingers with her tongue.

It was all Harry could do to keep Kingsley from seeing him buck his hips up into the underside of the desk. He squeezed the armrests of his chair so tightly he was surprised they didn't break off in his hands. Ginny was licking him up and down like he was a fucking ice cream cone – _hadn't she mentioned wanting dessert? –_ and Harry thought he'd never felt anything so good in his life.

 _Even though it's at the absolutely the wrong time. Heh. More like because it's at the absolutely wrong time._

Now Ginny's lips replaced her tongue and Harry froze. _If she takes me completely in her mouth I'm done for_. She must have realized that because instead she focused on feather light kisses, starting at his tip (with another light flick of her tongue that made Harry's eyes cross), on down to the base of his penis. One hand was gently stroking his sac, and when she began using her tongue again Harry had to fake a sudden, intense coughing fit to hide his moan.

"Harry, is everything all right?" Kingsley looked concerned.

 _Oh, it's nothing, sir. Just my ex-girlfriend giving me head underneath my desk._

"Fine . . . sir," Harry gasped. _Idiot! Kingsley isn't blind!_ Harry changed tactics just as Ginny changed her position and began rubbing her hands up and down his length while her tongue circled the head of his penis. "Actually, I . . . I'm not feeling so well. Uhh . . . I had a sandwich earlier from that new shop across the street and now my stomach's a bit upset."

As if to prove his point, Harry couldn't hold back a moan when Ginny pushed her lips against his tip, opening her mouth slowly as Harry involuntarily thrust inside. She swirled her tongue around and Harry shifted roughly in his seat and stifled a second moan.

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

"No . . . I'll be okay, soon, I think." Harry swallowed hard. _Be an Auror, Harry, be an Auror. What have you learned about distractions?_ He'd lectured his trainees just the other day about the importance of being able to stay completely focused and on-task, even in the face of surprises and danger.

 _And if Ginny sucking me off in front of my boss doesn't count as "danger", I don't know what does._

With superhuman effort, Harry pulled his attention back to Kingsley. One half of him was thoroughly enjoying feeling Ginny stroke and lick and kiss – _oh Merlin, that felt good -_ while the other began having a conversation about the latest intelligence on the attacks.

Kingsley still looked suspicious, but he settled into his chair and looked seriously at Harry.

"I'm moving you to cover the Earlham Eagles, starting next week after their game against the Harpies." He gave Harry the kind of look Harry knew meant that argument was futile. He couldn't help but protesting anyway.

"What? Sir . . . but the Harpies – did you see this report? They've been targeted more than any other team!" Underneath the desk, Ginny's mouth stopped moving. Harry didn't know if she'd heard what Kingsley said, but she couldn't have missed Harry's response. He froze. _Had she been aware of that?_

After a moment's pause, Ginny must have decided not to worry about what was going on above the desk. She began to stroke him softly again in a way that Harry knew was designed to bring on his orgasm gradually. It was delicious torture, and he wished he could give into the sensations completely. He leaned forward in his chair. To Kingsley, it looked as if Harry was about to try to press his point. But actually, the movement pushed Harry's penis forward towards Ginny's mouth again, and she obligingly began to suck. _Keep it light, Ginny, please,_ Harry silently begged. He didn't know how much longer he could keep up the façade. As it was, his hips were beginning to jerk rhythmically against Ginny's lips and Harry felt the beginnings of his orgasm growing in his back. He shuddered and took a deep breath.

"Why do you need me on the Eagles? Isn't that Dirkson's job?"

"Dirkson is needed to cover Tutshill – after the attack in the training room with more of those stinging plants, we're an Auror short there. And our intelligence is pointing toward an uptick in activity around Earlham. Wolfe will cover the Harpies with a couple of the more senior trainees. Bindi and Gavin will be assigned there and are more than adequate."

 _I'll bet Leandra will love that_ , thought Harry to himself. He knew he probably should argue his case for staying with the Harpies more, even though he knew that Kingsley wasn't going to change his mind. But Ginny's slow ministrations – combined with the heady rush of being pleasured right in front of his boss - had succeeded in making Harry so hard that he was ready to explode. She drew him farther into her mouth and Harry knew he had to get Kingsley out of his office – soon.

"Okay, right," he said tersely. "After the next match. In the meantime I'll talk to Dirksen about the Eagles and brief Wolfe on the Harpies so he knows . . . what to expect."

Kingsley grinned. "Wolfe is a married man. Make sure you remind the players about that – or else I'm sure his wife will."

Harry nodded. He was quite beyond words because his penis was almost to the back of Ginny's throat and she was sucking deeply. He had no idea how he was keeping still enough to hide the situation from Kingsley, especially when another moan escaped his lips. He dropped his head to his hands.

"You should really see the medi-witch," said Kingsley. He stood up then and Harry almost screamed with relief. "Let me know if you end up going home early, and make sure you get that traveling cloak down to the lab."

"Yes sir," Harry managed. He raised his head. "I'll have my thoughts on this report to you by tomorrow as well."

"Very good," said Kingsley, turning towards the door. Harry took the opportunity to give into his overwhelming urge to thrust. Ginny's hands were on both his thighs and she was trying to draw him closer to her and Harry dropped his hands below the desk to run his fingers through her hair. Kingsley stopped and turned back around and Harry only just managed to pull his hands away and back onto the report before it looked to Kingsley that Harry was trying to masturbate at his desk.

"And Harry, thank you for being professional about this and understanding the need to move you. I know that it's . . . personal for you and the Harpies – because of your connection to the Weasleys."

 _If he only knew just how 'personal' things were right now, he'd probably have my head – if anything's left of it after Ginny's finished._

"Yes sir," replied Harry. More words were beyond him.

And then Kingsley was blessedly gone and the door was closed and resealed and silenced. Harry let out the groan he'd been holding in for almost fifteen minutes and leaned back in his chair, moving his hands back down to Ginny's head. She paused only a second to grin up at him and push his chair back enough to emerge from under the desk before she lowered her head down again and began sucking in earnest.

Harry couldn't stop his hips from bucking up and down against her; he'd gone almost mental trying to keep still and now he let his orgasm build without holding back. Ginny's tongue flicked and swirled and her hands caressed his thighs, cupped his sac, and then finally wrapped tightly around his lower waist as she pulled him as far into her mouth as she could.

 _I have to watch_. There was almost nothing sexier to Harry than seeing Ginny going down on him, and watching her giving him a blow job while he sat at his desk in the Ministry of Magic was overwhelming. With a grunt, he exploded into her mouth; the sight of her throat moving as she swallowed made him wish he could do it all again, right now.

When he was finally done, Ginny sat back with a sigh and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Harry summoned her a cup of water from the pitcher he kept on his desk and handed it to her. She smiled in thanks and slowly unfolded herself from beneath the desk, letting her legs splay out in front of her.

"I'm going to be stiff tomorrow," she said, massaging her legs.

Harry felt immediately guilty. "I'm sorry, I had no idea he'd be here so long."

"Stop it, Harry. This was my idea, remember?" She giggled. "I can't believe you managed to have a conversation without Kinsley realizing what was going on."

"Me neither," said Harry ruefully, rubbing his chin. "Actually, Kingsley's pretty sharp. I'm sure he didn't buy my story about having a stomach ache. I'm just lucky he didn't think I was possessed or something. He might have tried to hex me." He looked down at Ginny. "Thanks. That was pretty . . . spectacular."

Ginny punched him lightly on the leg. "My pleasure, Potter. That was quite an experience for me too."

"Do you want me to . . ." Harry reached down to Ginny and cupped her breast through her still open shirt.

 _Knock knock knock_ "Harry! Are you in there? Kingsley said you wanted to talk about the change in assignments."

Harry sighed and withdrew his hand. "Probably not such a good idea to try for a repeat." He stood up and finally pulled up his trousers as Ginny got up and started buttoning her shirt.

"Just a second," Harry called to Cabot Dirkson. "I uhh, need to take something to the lab first, then I'll stop in."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "You're really taking my cloak to the lab? Gwenog will kill me."

"Nah, I'll just walk you out and let the lab know that I had the wrong cloak."

But in the hallway, Harry was accosted by his secretary, who had a mountain of parchment for him to sign and a number of Aurors were lining up to talk to him about the rearranged work assignments, so Harry had to just wave goodbye to Ginny and let her leave by herself. He made a mental note to make sure she knew he wouldn't be with the Harpies after their next game and then turned his mind back to work.


	14. Apart

Harry's flat seemed more subdued than usual for some reason. True, he hadn't slept there much in the past month – and by the look of things (neat, kitchen table slightly dusty), neither had Ron – but that wasn't it. No, it was more what the three days back here signified. On Friday he would watch the Harpies play the Earlham Eagles in the first game after the ten-day suspension of league play, and after that, he'd be in charge of investigating and protecting the Earlham Eagles. Dorian Wolfe would be transferred to the Harpies, and Harry was not likely to see Ginny much at all.

He wondered what Ginny thought about the change – they certainly hadn't talked that day at Harry's office, when she had been under Harry's desk, giving him . . . no. Harry wasn't going to think about that now. Not when there was nothing he could do about it, and a second wank today felt excessive.

He had finally talked to her yesterday – briefly by floo – but she had already heard of the new assignment with the rest of the team. The conversation had been short and awkward; Ginny had been using the floo in her flat, and several of her teammates were there too, shouting comments and generally making a lot of noise. They hadn't even discussed seeing each other again.

He wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't just told her himself right away – it would have made sense, after all – but after their encounter at his office he hadn't been able to bring himself to contact her immediately. Part of him was mildly ashamed that he hadn't insisted more vehemently to Kingsley that he stay assigned to the Harpies; even if he had been in no shape to do so at the moment Kingsley had delivered the news, Harry certainly could have gone to talk to his boss later that day. He had only just finished listening to Arthur Weasley tell him how glad the family was that he was the one assigned to watch Ginny's team, and here he was, abandoning her. It was possible that Ginny would have expected more of him, and Harry didn't want to disappoint her.

And part of him – the bigger part – was afraid she really wouldn't care at all.

Logically, he knew he was being ridiculous. Ginny and he were friends – at the least. Of course she'd be up upset to hear that Harry wasn't going to be assigned to the Harpies anymore. She would miss their _arrangement_ as much as he would, Harry was sure. But Harry was also beginning to realize that his thoughts when it came to Ginny were not always logical. And that scared him. There had been a subtle shift between them at the Burrow, although he couldn't say exactly what had changed. He had staunchly avoided thinking about it actually, figuring that if he ignored whatever it was, it would eventually go away and they could go back to shagging like they had been – no strings attached. Assuming of course that they ever had a chance to see each other.

 _Maybe time apart was what they needed._

Right. It was possible that the time apart would be good for them. Ginny needed to focus on playing – it appeared the Harpies were headed for the playoffs – and she needed to be at the top of her game. And Harry, well . . . he had to put as much energy into the Eagles as he had the Harpies. He would, too – that was a given. It just wouldn't be nearly as interesting. Or personal.

The Floo flared green and Harry sat up in his chair. It was probably Gavin Sykes, wanting to talk to him – again – about his new assignment with the Harpies. Gavin was so excited, you'd think he was in charge of the entire operation, not just one of the three trainees assigned to work with the Harpies. He'd floo-called Harry no less than four times in the last several days, and stopped by his office two more, always asking rather inane questions about specific players and their habits, "to make sure he was on top of everything at all times." After Harry had confirmed that yes, Kennedy Smythe usually had fresh-squeezed orange juice for breakfast before practice, and Katrina Block preferred to listen to Muggle-style heavy metal while she ran stadium steps, Harry had finally told Gavin that part of being a top-notch Auror meant observing and cataloguing ones subjects for oneself. He hoped Gavin had gotten the point.

Fortunately, it was not Gavin at the Floo. Instead, Dorian Wolfe was there, with a report about the investigation. Trainee Bindi Shah had finally been the one to make some real progress on the case, figuring out that the strange and dangerous plants that kept showing up in shipments of medical supplies for the trainers could also be used – if correctly prepared – in certain high-end types of flavored Firewhisky. The Aurors were now looking into companies that brewed or imported the drink, but it was slow going.

The mention of Bindi reminded Harry of something else, however.

"Hey, is Bindi okay being assigned to the Harpies?" he asked Wolfe. "I mean, I know Gavin and Hector were thrilled, but I can't imagine the assignment is that exciting for her."

Wolfe smirked. "Actually, I think working an all-female team is just what Bindi was hoping for, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows. "Actually, she asked me the other day if I knew of any players who might need _individual_ attention, and I said I'd ask you what you thought."

"Ahhh," said Harry, thinking for a second and trying to remember a conversation he'd had with Ginny. "Umm, tell her to look for one of the reserve Beaters – Tamara, I think her name is. Actually, she might be the starter now. And . . . warn her about Leandra. I don't care which way that witch flies – she's dangerous to everyone."

Dorian laughed. "So I've heard – from more than one trainee. Gavin practically turned green when I suggested that he pay special attention to her. I don't think he's recovered from the last time they met up."

Harry grinned back. "Neither have I, and all she did was talk to me."

A few minutes later, Harry ended the call and was starting to review the report when the fireplace flared green again. He sighed and put down his parchment, fully expecting to see Gavin's head bobbing in the flames. Instead, Harry grinned to see Ron there instead, chewing something. _No surprise there_ , Harry thought. Ron swallowed and without so much as a hello blurted out, "what's this I hear about you ditching my sister?"

 _So Ginny had told Ron._ _No use playing dumb._ "I didn't have a choice – King wants me on the Eagles now."

"Did you tell him nothing doing?"

"Come on, Ron, how often did you stand up to Kingsley?" asked Harry indignantly. Ron had gone almost all the way through Auror training before realizing that what he was really meant to do was work with the twins, inventing jokes. Now he was in charge of his own line of trick toys and games, his latest being a wizard's chess set whose pieces would only make moves that benefited one's opponent. But during his eight months as Harry's training partner, Ron had gotten very serious. So serious, in fact, that everyone was quite relieved when he quit and joined up with Fred and George.

"That's different." Ron sounded equally indignant. "You aren't a trainee anymore. You're Mr. Harry "skipped right to Number Three in command" Potter. D'ya really think King wouldn't keep you on the Harpies if you asked?"

Harry shrugged. "Kinglsey knows what he's doing. I'm needed elsewhere." He hesitated, not sure what Ron suspected. He couldn't betray Ginny like that – she'd been adamant about keeping everything secret. "And anyway, it wouldn't be fair. Taking advantage of my personal relationship with . . . with your family, just to stay with the Harpies. Maybe King thinks it was getting _too_ personal. That can be a danger, you know – an Auror cares too much, and then loses focus."

"For some Aurors, maybe," said Ron. "Not for you. You do your best work when you care too much. And I still think you should be keeping a close eye on Ginny. There's something going on that I don't like. But she's so damn independent, all she can talk about is how hard she needs to be training right now and that she's sure the Aurors will take care of everything. She'd listen to you, I bet."

 _"And what exactly am I supposed to tell her?" Harry asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was right – he'd probably been distracting her and now she was trying to catch up. And doing something dangerous to boot._

"Tell her to quit her late night flies and wait for the rest of the team. They've been assigning one of those idiot trainees to watch her – last night she said the kid spent more time staring at her arse than looking around for danger."

"Gavin, I bet," said Harry darkly.

"Whoever," agreed Ron. "If you were there she wouldn't be pulling these idiotic stunts – or if she did, at least you'd be able to protect her."

 _If I was there, she certainly wouldn't flying so much –and if Ron knew why, he'd probably kill me – unless Ginny got to him first_. For Harry was certain Ron would not be that understanding of the whole "friends with benefits" rules he and Ginny had worked out – he'd want to know why they weren't just back together and then accuse one or the other of just wanting to shag. And Harry was in no mood to try to explain something he was feeling less and less sure he understood himself.

"Listen mate, Dorian Wolfe is in charge of the Harpies now, and he's a good man. Ginny'll be fine." Harry paused. "Besides, I'm sure she doesn't want to hear me telling her what to do any more than she likes getting it from the rest of you."

Ron gave him a look. "Harry," he said slowly, "Ginny hasn't thought of you as just another one of her annoying brothers since some time back at the beginning of her Fifth year. She'd listen to you, no matter . . ." he broke off. "Forget it."

Harry was more than happy to forget it – the conversation was moving too near one of several forbidden topics. He grabbed for something to change the topic. "How are the wedding plans coming?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "If you really want to know, I'll go get Hermione. She can talk about the details for hours. I swear, it's worse than listening to her make up study schedules because this time I can't ignore her."

Harry grinned. He knew that beneath Ron's bluster, he was really enjoying himself. "At least getting married doesn't require passing a test," he said. "I'd hate to think about how much Hermione would make you study for that."

Ron grinned back. "Yep." He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Hey, that reminds me. I wanted to tell you in person, but you've been so busy . . ."

Harry sat up. "Tell me what?"

Hermione joined Ron's side in the floo. She looked at her fiancée. "Did you tell him?"

"I was just about to. He's not going to believe it though."

"What?" Harry asked again.

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "Ron actually got up the guts to tell his mother that we're moving in together – before the wedding!"

Harry laughed. "And he's still in one piece? All his bits intact?"

"Oh, she had more than a few choice words," said Ron ruefully. But there was no way she'd touch my bits – wants more grandkids, you know. Victoire can only wear so many sweaters."

"Well that's great," Harry said. "I'm excited for you two. When, umm, when do you want to move your stuff?" He kept a smile plastered on his face while he talked, hoping that the flickering light of the floo made it appear fairly natural. He'd known in the back of his head that Ron's getting married would mean he was moving out, but it hadn't really seemed real – and Harry certainly hadn't expected it to happen before the wedding. True, he and Ron didn't spend a huge amount of time in the flat, but still, it was different than actually living alone. They usually found themselves together at least a couple nights a month – sometimes with Hermione and sometimes without – and Harry knew he was going to miss their impromptu dinners of Chinese take-out or Muggle pizza. Everything going forward would have to be planned.

". . . couple of weeks, I think," Ron was saying. "Hermione needs to clean out some of the 10,000 books she owns to make room for my stuff."

She swatted him "Prat. I only have 9,990." She looked earnestly at Harry. "We'll let you know ahead of time to make sure we aren't interrupting anything – maybe a weekend when you're busy with work or something?"

"That would be all of them," said Harry, trying to make a joke. He suspected they saw through it, though. "Just let me know so I can help. I don't have many plans in the next month except that Auror ball thing the Ministry is putting on for the International law enforcement convention."

Hermione looked interested. "Really? A ball? Who are you going to take?"

Harry sighed. He really didn't want to get into this right now. "No one, Hermione," he replied in a voice he hoped told her the matter was closed. "I'll go for the speeches and dinner and then leave."

"Isn't there _anyone_ you want to take?" Harry was surprised that it was Ron who asked the question. He bit back the urge to ask _like whom?_ and just shook his head. He knew who Ron would suggest – who all the Weasleys would suggest, for that matter.

"Nope. No one," he said firmly.

"Not even as a friend?" Ron was not to be deterred. "I bet Ginny would go."

"It's right before a big game," said Harry hurriedly. He was not going to complicate things by asking Ginny to rearrange her schedule and get permission from Gwenog to go on what would undoubtedly look like a _date_. Especially right before the playoffs. And it was against their rules, besides.

"Whatever, mate," Ron finally said. "You'll be at her match tomorrow though, right?"

"Right," said Harry. "They're playing the Eagles anyway. I'll transition over to them after the game." He'd already decided not to try to find Ginny for a pre-game "warm-up" tomorrow – not only would it be next to impossible anyway with all the extra Aurors around, but he didn't think Ginny (or Gwenog, for that matter), would appreciate any sort of distractions before the match. The team hadn't played in over ten days and they needed to be focused and coordinated.

The call ended and the flames died away, leaving the flat silent and still again. Harry picked up the report and tried to read, but other thoughts kept crowding his mind. Abruptly, he stood up, throwing the report on the table and striding to his bedroom.

The vial was at the bottom of his trunk, he was pretty sure. It was rolled up in an old pair of socks, still tightly stoppered. Harry opened it with a tap of his wand and watched the swirling mists inside before putting his wand to his head and closing his eyes. Incongruently, He thought for a moment of Dumbledore, telling him that sometimes he found that his head was just too crowded with thoughts, and that it helped to take some of them out sometimes, to be reviewed at leisure.

Harry didn't intend to look at these thoughts again either, but he hoped it would be a relief to put them somewhere where they couldn't distract him anymore.

When he was finally satisfied, he put the stopper back on the bottle and resealed it, slipping it back into the socks and dropping the entire thing into his trunk again. Only then did he go back to his living room and pick up the report. He would need to be fully up-to-date by tomorrow.

HPHPHPHPHP

Ginny told herself she hadn't really expected Harry to come find her before the match – there was just too much going on – but that hadn't stopped her from looking up every time the door to the dressing room opened or her stomach from making an odd little swoop when she saw a tall, dark-haired Auror there. But it was just that Wolfe bloke – the new Auror who was going to be in charge of watching the Harpies starting tomorrow – letting them know in his dry, boring voice that the start of the game would be delayed for "security reasons", whatever that meant. Some of her teammates exchanged nervous looks, but Ginny just continued resolutely pulling on her robes and beginning her stretches.

 _Harry would have found a way to let me know exactly what was going on._

It was true, she had gotten used to feeling more in-the-know than her teammates – than Gwenog, even – but the new absence of information hadn't started unnerving her yet. But seeing that other Auror standing there, instead of Harry, suddenly gave Ginny a jolt of unease. She didn't feel as _safe_ as she had before. _What had she been thinking, going for those late night practice flies? Anything could have happened, and Harry would not have been around to help her._

She had staunchly tried to avoid thinking about what it meant, that Harry was no longer the one protecting the Harpies. Obviously things were getting worse; when they had talked by floo the other day his eyes had been ringed with dark circles and two days of stubble shadowed his chin. Seeing him like that, Ginny had felt horribly guilty about all the time Harry had been spending with her, shagging, when he should have been focusing on the investigation.

And the worst thing was, she knew that if given the opportunity, she'd want to do it again.

 _Harry would too; he enjoyed himself as much as you did_ , she thought fairly. Ginny hadn't imagined the way Harry's eyes grew dark with desire and need whenever they were together, and she couldn't deny the intensity of their coupling. But now, when he needed to focus on his job and nothing else, she would have to be strong enough to let him do just that.

 _I wonder when I'll see him again._ She couldn't deny the thought, though, and it wasn't hurting anyone to think it. The truth was, seeing him regularly had become habit, and even though the idea of going about her business play Quidditch, and _not_ seeing Harry every day hadn't completely sunk yet, Ginny knew she was going to miss it.

 _Okay, fine. I'll miss it. Who wouldn't? He's a great guy and we've been having a lot of fun. End of story._ Ginny ignored the nagging thought that these little lectures to herself were getting more common. The problem was, she was beginning to realize that if she wanted to continue making things right for Harry, their understanding – and their rules – were going to have to change.

Gwenog's arrival in the changing tent broke Ginny out of her reverie. The Captain clapped her hands briskly. "Okay, a few last minute words before the game. I don't need to tell you how important this match is – we could clinch the playoffs today with a win." She peered down at the clipboard she was holding. "Now, I've just learned that the Eagles have a few new players on their team. Ginny – didn't you go to school with Alicia Spinnet?"

Ginny looked up, surprised. "Yeah, she's a couple years older than me, though. She married Oliver Wood last year and is a reserve Chaser for Tutshill."

"Not anymore," said Gwenog. "She was just traded to the Eagles and will be playing today in the match. Her style is completely different from Coco Firestone, the Eagles' old Chaser. Did you ever play with her?"

"A bit," said Ginny. "My fourth year. Alicia's good, but pretty straightforward. She wasn't very strong on the breakaway, but her scoring accuracy from close range was good."

Gwenog nodded. "I want you to shadow her as much as possible. My intelligence was watching her practice earlier and it sounds like she's improved a lot. The entire team looked really tight. Keep focused and keep pushing. I know we can do this."

The team grabbed hands and cheered before grabbing their brooms and flying onto the field.

Afterwards, Ginny would always describe the game as the toughest she'd ever played. She had flown up to hover near Alicia as Gwenog and the Eagles' captain shook hands, giving her former schoolmate a friendly smile. Alicia's cold stare back was so out of character for the girl Ginny remembered that for a second, she thought she had the wrong player.

Ginny tried again. "How do you like playing for the Eagles, Alicia?"

"It's fine," the other Chaser responded automatically. She turned away from Ginny and began flying circuits across the field even before the game officially began, leaving Ginny to catch up and wonder what the hell was going on.

The Harpies had played the Eagles twice before, winning handily both times over the newer and less-experienced team. Only minutes into the game, Ginny could see that a lot had changed since their last meeting. Gwenog was always lecturing the women about "seamless playing" – working together as so much of a unit that they could practically anticipate a teammate's move before she made it. Watching the Eagles, Ginny wondered if they'd heard Gwenog's lecture themself – their formations were tight and the Chasers moved quickly through the sky, passing the Quaffle back and forth to each other with barely a glance at their target.

It took all of Ginny's concentration and strength to keep up with Alicia – the older girl zoomed around the pitch so fast that she was only a dark blur most of the time. But the Harpies were very good too, and for a while they kept the game close. After almost two hours however, Ginny was exhausted, and by the looks on her teammates' faces, they were getting demoralized too. She groaned when Alicia zipped past her, Quaffle in hand, hardly appearing winded at all. By the time Ginny reached the goals, Alicia had already scored and the Eagles were up by 40 points. Ginny was turning her broom to head back down the pitch, keeping her eye on Leandra, who now had the Quaffle, when a whistle pierced the air.

The Eagles' Seeker was descending, his fist, clamped around the Snitch, held high above his head. Ginny ground her teeth in frustration and landed with her teammates to line up for the post-game handshakes, barely hearing the crowd around her. They had been outplayed from the start – it was the Harpies' worst loss all season and their first loss at all in over a month. Now the Eagles were one game ahead of them at the top of the league and the Harpies were going to have to fight to make the playoffs.

Ginny scanned the edges of the pitch where the Aurors were always stationed, looking for Harry. He'd played for years with Alicia at Hogwarts and Ginny hoped that when he came to see her after the game, he'd have some thoughts about how the Harpies looked against the other team, and whether Ginny could have done anything differently to improve her play. She was pretty sure he was still transitioning assignments, and it would make sense for him to come along with the new Aurors when everyone got together at the pubs. Maybe they could have a pint together while the team commiserated about the loss; Harry was always urging her to go be with her team more, she bet he'd be pleased.

Ginny shook Alicia's hand perfunctorily, noting that she didn't even seem particularly excited about winning. Ginny remembered her as a rather enthusiastic player – almost as ardent about winning as her new husband – but now she simply nodded at Ginny and faded away towards the visitors' changing rooms.

Ginny did not have a lot of time to ponder Alicia's behavior; she caught sight of Harry talking to a female Auror who still wore trainee robes. As Ginny approached, Harry looked up and caught her eye. His face was more closed off than Ginny had seen in weeks and when he smiled, it did not reach his eyes. He motioned to the trainee next to him.

"Ginny, this is Bindi Shah, one of the trainees assigned to the Harpies now."

"Hi," said the young Auror. "I'm sorry about the loss."

"Yeah, thanks," said Ginny. "We were completely outplayed." She looked at Harry. "D'you want . . ." she began, just as Bindi asked her "is the team going to a pub or something? Harry suggested that I tag along and keep an eye out."

"Oh," said Ginny, her concentration broken. "Err, yeah, I guess we are. The Cloak and Dagger, I think. That's Gwenog's favorite for drowning her sorrows after a loss."

"Great," said Bindi. "I'll be there." She turned to Harry, apparently continuing their previous conversation. "Should I . . ."

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll let Dorian know." He paused for a second. "I'm just going to . . . ummm . . . grab a bite to eat first." He didn't look at Ginny, but touched her arm and mumbled "Tell Gwenog I'm sorry you lost," before turning on the spot and disappearing.

Ginny was so surprised at Harry's abrupt departure that she didn't even realize Bindi was talking to her until she waved her hand in front of Ginny's face. "Are you okay?"

Ginny bit back the urge to ask this girl she'd only just met if something was going on with Harry. _Why did he disappear so fast? Just because he's hungry?_

"Nothing's wrong," Ginny managed. "Just tired from the game."

Bindi nodded. "Well, I guess I'll see you at the pub, then. Hey, do you know if Tamara's going to be there?"

Ginny nodded distractedly. "I assume so," she mumbled, her mind swirling. She didn't notice Bindi smile to herself and then Apparate away. It had just occurred to her what else was different about this match – aside from the loss, of course. It was the first one in weeks – maybe over a month, even – that she and Harry had not had sex first. It had been their joke – that sex before insured a Harpies win.

 _Almost immediately, Ginny was unaccountably angry. If he thinks this is because of the sex, or no sex, before . . ._

It would be so like Harry to feel guilty. Or responsible. They'd been fucking _outplayed,_ that was all, and now he couldn't even look her in the eye and have a conversation with her about _why_ they'd been flown circles around and how Alicia had gotten so good and . . .

 _Or he didn't want to have sex._

Ginny wasn't sure what was worse, Harry feeling guilty because they hadn't had sex before the game and thought that's why they'd lost, or Harry not wanting to see her after the game because he didn't want to shag her.

 _Why the fuck did it all have to be about sex?_

 _Because it was always about sex,_ a little voice said. That's what being _friends with benefits_ meant. They had a lot of sex, without the problems of a relationship.

 _But it also meant being friends._

That's what Ginny wanted right now. Harry, as her friend. She wanted to sit with him at the pub and talk about what went wrong at the game and how she might improve if they met the Eagles again in the playoffs (assuming of course, the Harpies even _made_ the playoffs), and laugh together, and . . . not even once think about having sex. Because who said they had to shag every time? Why the _fuck_ couldn't he be her friend without wanting . . . well, without wanting to _fuck_ her?

 _Just like you at his office, right?_

Damn. Because she _had_ avoided going to see him at his office that day at the Ministry of Magic. He didn't need to be bothered. Why couldn't she have just stopped in to say hello, see how he was doing? She'd been there anyway, after all. If she hadn't run into him, they wouldn't have seen each other at all that day. And look what happened. It became all about sex anyway.

Ginny shook her head in frustration. It was not the same. Not at all. She hadn't gone to see Harry that day because he was busy. And he'd practically told her he wanted to fool around. She certainly hadn't heard any complaining.

 _Heh. As if you could hear anything at all, under his desk, with him in your mouth._

Ginny was confused. All she had wanted was to have a chance to sit and talk to Harry after the game. As friends. And now she wasn't sure exactly what that meant for them, and if it was even allowed, for Merlin's sake. Why had it gotten so hard?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Ginny suddenly realized that the stadium had gotten quiet – with everything that had been going on and security so much tighter, people didn't linger after games the way they used to. She saw the last of her teammates across the pitch, wearing their Harpies' cloaks and getting ready to Disapparate and she headed that way quickly. Tonight she'd drink with them and curse their loss. Tomorrow she could try to figure out what exactly was going on with her and Harry Potter.


	15. Cloak and Dagger

A/N: For those of you who didn't read this story back when I first wrote it, the working title was "We Were On A Break!" I'm still using that as I edit. Enjoy!

Most of the pubs the Harpies favored looked more or less the same inside, and the outside of Cloak and Dagger was so crowded when Ginny finally got there after the loss to the Eagles she could barely see anything other than the backs of the people in front of her. But her uniform cloak got her to the front of the line and then through the door quickly, where she found her team and had a glass shoved into her hand almost immediately. Despite the fact that no one could have been there more than 30 minutes or so, several of her teammates already looked quite buzzed.

Ginny had just downed her first shot with Evie and Gwenog when Leandra sidled up to her and flung an arm around her shoulder.

"What memories, huh? Are you planning anything hot here tonight?" She waggled her eyes suggestively and for a wild second Ginny wondered if Leandra was coming on to her.

"Huh . . .what?" Ginny managed, wiggling out from under Leandra's arm and trying to create some distance between them.

"You know, with Potter," said Leandra, jerking her head towards the back of the pub. Ginny looked that way, half expecting to see Harry there, but all she could see was a sea of heads and bottles and glasses floating through the air as the servers levitated them to patrons. But then the crowd shifted a bit and Ginny got a glimpse of . . .

 _Oh yeah._

The name of the pub hadn't meant anything to Ginny – there were several the Harpies regularly visited – and the little back hallway Ginny could now see was as nondescript as any other leading to the bathrooms. But it was immediately clear what Leandra meant, and what had happened in _that_ particular hallway, and more specifically, in _that_ particular gents' loo.

Ginny suddenly felt depressed. She should be, of course – they'd just lost an important game. She hated feeling that she'd been outflown, and there was no question that Alicia had been better than her today.

But even more than that, there was an emptiness that hadn't been there after other losses. Gwenog and Evie and Katrina were right next to her, breaking down the match play-by-play, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Normally, Ginny would have been right there with them, deconstructing and trying to figure out how they might change strategies for next time. She didn't really care about that right now. The only person she was interested in talking to about the match was Harry. And he was acting undeniably weird.

 _He must have known where we were coming, and he didn't want to be back here, with me._

Ginny wondered if there was more to the reason Harry had been reassigned than he'd let on. Not for the first time she flushed at the thought of how much she must have distracted him from his work. Maybe Kingsley even knew she'd been in Harry's office. Or maybe Harry had asked to be reassigned himself, to give him some distance from her.

 _Stop it, Ginevra. You know Harry wouldn't do that. Not without telling you._

She was certain of that. Yes, he might be intensely involved in his work, but she couldn't believe he would just ask to be reassigned as a way to avoid . . .them. Hell, she was making a huge assumption that he _didn't_ want to see her anymore.

 _He barely spoke to you tonight, though._

But that was totally different. He was on duty and trying to work on the transition, and talking to Bindi without letting her know that there had been, or was, anything between him and Ginny. It didn't mean anything.

"Hey Ginny, come on, we're all doing flaming butterbeer shots!" Ginny looked up and saw her entire team standing around, each holding a large mug of ale in one hand and a shot glass of butterbeer in the other. Their server handed Ginny hers and then, with a flick of her wand, lit all the shot glasses on fire.

"To routing the Eagles next time we meet!" shouted Gwenog.

"To making the playoffs!" added Evie.

"To finding Aurors as cute as Harry Potter so we can all shag them like Ginny!" cried Leandra.

Even as Ginny was turning bright red and looking frantically around to see who might have overheard, the rest of the team was dropping their shot glasses into their ale and downing the entire drink in one gulp.

Leandra finished quickly and wiped her upper lip. "Come on, Ginny, drink up," she called saucily. "Harry might be here any minute."

"Shut up, Leandra," Ginny muttered, dropping in her shot and draining the mug.

"Oh, come on," said Leandra, knocking her hip against Ginny's. "All in good fun. We all just wish we had an Auror as cute and attentive as Harry in love with us too."

"Harry is _not_ in love with me," said Ginny hotly. "Not even close. I told you before, we're just _friends_."

Leandra didn't say anything, just raised her eyebrows. Ginny knew she should let it go, but she couldn't. She was suddenly sick of all the jokes and innuendo. Leandra needed to understand so she'd finally drop it. Ginny spread her arms wide. "Look around. Do you see Harry Potter anywhere near me? Huh? Cause if he was in love with me, I think he'd want to be around trying to make me feel better after I played like such crap today."

Leandra opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking upset. Finally she said, "but you didn't play like crap, Ginny. You were fantastic. It's just that that Eagles Chaser was unbelievable. I mean, she was like a machine or something up there."

Ginny frowned. "I've known Alicia for years," she said slowly. "She and her husband are friends with my older brothers. Don't you think I would have heard if she suddenly became such a great Quidditch player?"

Leandra shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it's because she got married. All that sex can be good for your game." She waggled her eyes suggestively. "I mean, it certainly helped yours."

Ginny sighed. Leandra could not be deterred from her one-track mind, and Ginny was tired of trying to change it. She handed a couple of Sickles to the server as she went past and then leaned over to Evie.

"I've had enough. I'm leaving," she muttered. "I need to stop and get my stuff out of the changing rooms at the stadium and then I'll be back at the flat."

Evie looked at her with concern. "Are you okay? Cause if it's about what Leandra said . . ."

"No, I'm fine," said Ginny hurriedly. "Really." The last thing she wanted to do was get into a real conversation about Harry. Leandra's jokes were bad enough, but Evie was one of Ginny's closest friends on the team and yet, they had never spoken about Ginny and Harry's arrangement. Ginny was sure Evie knew what was going on, and it just proved how good a friend she was that she had never said anything about it.

Evie nodded and gave her a hug. "I'll be back later on."

Ginny said goodbye to her teammates and pushed her way out of the pub so she could find a quiet place to Disapparate. The stadium's wards were fixed to allow players to Apparate into the locked front entryway; the night watchman would then let her into the changing rooms.

But it was Auror trainee Gavin Sykes who was there instead. Ginny groaned to herself. She'd forgotten that he was assigned to the Harpies now. Gavin was young, eager, and at last count, had slept with at least three of Ginny's teammates. He'd tried hitting on Ginny at a pub once, but after Harry had begun working with the Harpies, Gavin had mercifully started leaving her alone. That didn't stop his eyes from lighting up in surprise when he saw her standing there waiting to be let into the stadium, though.

"Ginny! I thought I wouldn't see any Harpies until tomorrow afternoon, at the earliest. Aren't you all drowning your sorrows at the Cloak and Dagger? That was some loss today."

"Thanks for reminding me, Gavin," said Ginny tiredly. "I don't know when you'll see the rest of the team, but I'm going home."

 _"D'you need an escort?" Gavin sounded sincere, but there was something about his expression that made Ginny pause. Harry wouldn't have said anything to make Gavin think I wanted . . . no. Definitely not. He's more obsessed with his privacy than I am._

"I'm _fine_ , Gavin," said Ginny, probably more harshly than necessary. "Anyway, aren't you supposed to stay here on duty?" she asked more gently.

"It's just so _boring_ here," said Gavin with a touch of petulance. "I thought things would be more exciting when I moved to the Harpies. Harry's probably going to get all the excitement with the Eagles."

"I certainly hope not," said Ginny sharply. "Knowing Harry, he'll probably be able to find whoever's behind all this within a fortnight."

"Yeah, hopefully," agreed Gavin. "Well, if you're going back to your flat, don't let me stop you."

"I just need to stop by the changing rooms and get my bag, then I'll Apparate straight from there," said Ginny. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ginny."

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry stood up from his position kneeling at the floo and ran his hand through his hair. He'd just finished declining Scott Meyer's invitation to go to the Cloak and Dagger for a couple of hours. Nearly everyone seemed to have decided that tonight was the time to take a much-needed break from everything that was going on with the Quidditch situation. Kingsley had sent home the Aurors who'd been pouring over evidence and lab results nearly around the clock and most of the married Aurors like Wolfe and Dirksen were relaxing with their families. Harry could have gone along to the pub, he supposed, although it sounded like it was going to be primarily the newer Aurors, and those without attachments.

 _Which includes me, I suppose._

But it would have been incredibly intrusive of him to follow Ginny there when she undoubtedly needed a night out with her team after such a tough loss. It would probably look like he was just interested in continuing their "arrangement", and the last thing Harry wanted to do right now was interfere with Ginny's playing.

For a short while during the game and immediately after, he thought he'd succeeded in removing himself from the growing confusion he felt when he was around Ginny. His thoughts had been fairly clear, and he'd been able to watch her play critically and objectively. It hadn't been a relief to lose those feelings, exactly, but at least the temporary emptiness had allowed him to give her some distance.

It hadn't lasted nearly long enough, though. Seeing her again, after the game, had brought nearly everything he'd just tried to hide roaring back. Harry wasn't so blind that he didn't understand what _that_ meant, but he tried not to think about it anyway. He had promised Ginny no interference and he was determined to stick to their agreement.

To distract himself, he wandered into his kitchen and began rummaging around in the fridge for something to eat. He'd barely started eying the truly sad array of food and that a shopping trip was in order when a Patronus – Scott Meyers' fox – dropped down in front of him. It took longer than a second to start speaking and in that quiet moment, Harry's heart dropped into his stomach. Indeed, when he finally heard Meyers' voice, it was out of breath and fraught with calamity.

"Potter . . . explosion . . . Cloak and Dagger. We don't know what . . . there are injured. Get here NOW!" The voice faded away with the fox.

Harry whirled back into the living room and grabbed up his wand, struggling to think like an Auror, to focus on who might be responsible and how the scene would need to be immediately secured to search for clues. There had likely been over one hundred people in the pub at the time, and Meyers had said some of them were hurt. Transport to St. Mungo's had to be arranged, witness statements taken, the press dealt with.

Harry knew all this, of course. But as he turned on the spot and Disapparated away, all his mind could focus on was a single face he knew was at the pub, a single name.

 _Ginny._


	16. Search and Seizure

Ginny, Katrina, Gwenog and Tamara were sitting in silence with Auror trainee Bindi Shah – who had found the players in the fire and confusion at the pub and brought them back to the flat – when a loud pop of Apparition in the kitchen made them all jump.

Bindi jumped to her feet, wand out. "Stay here," she muttered tersely, although her words seemed most directed at Ginny, who had also pulled her wand at the noise. Her teammates just looked blankly at her; Ginny suspected they were all close to shock, and wouldn't have been able to defend themselves against a flobberworm attack just then. Despite the fact that Bindi seemed to be well in command of the situation, Ginny took a few steps after her anyway, determined to help if necessary. A second later, Harry's voice, as close to panic as Ginny had ever heard it, rang out.

"Have you seen Ginny? Who's here? She was unaccounted for at the pub – no one there remembers seeing her leave. There were parts of the pub no one could get to, with that wall collapse and I need to . . . I mean, I promised . . ." He was babbling so fast the words were tripping over one another and Ginny, who had never known Harry to lose control in a dangerous situation gripped her wand even more tightly, wondering if it really was him.

Before Bindi could answer, Ginny walked into the kitchen, wand out. "I'm here," she said quickly. "How did you get past the wards?"

Relief flooded Harry's features. He walked swiftly across the kitchen and grabbed her about the shoulders. "Are you hurt? How did you get back without anyone seeing you?"

Ginny wiggled sharply out of his grasp. "You didn't answer my question. How did you get past the wards to this flat?" An idea struck her. She glanced quickly at Bindi.

 _It's more important to make sure._

"Last month, in the loo at the pub," she began, determined not to let a blush show on her face, "what position did we use?" That was as specific as she could get, with the other woman standing there. Harry – if it was Harry, would know exactly what she meant anyway.

"What?" Harry stared at her, not comprehending.

"You heard me. What position?"

Harry blushed. "Standing, from behind," he finally mumbled, "bent over the sink."

Ginny lowered her wand, carefully not looking at Bindi. "Well, okay then. But how did you Apparate right into my flat?"

"I fixed the wards that way, when I set them," he said. "Just . . . just in case."

"You did?" Bindi interrupted, looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny. "Is that . . . standard procedure?" She looked uncertainly at Harry, who seemed distinctly uncomfortable.

"It was a _special situation_ ," he said firmly. Then he looked at Ginny, and his embarrassment seemed to fade away, and he was all-Auror. "Where have you been? After the explosion, no one had any idea where you were." His voice held an accusatory tone all of a sudden.

"I left early," said Ginny, feeling a little defensive. "And I told Evie I was leaving, and then I saw Gavin at the stadium."

"But when you came back here, it didn't occur to you that you needed to let someone know you were okay? Evie's hurt . . ."

"You found her? How badly?" Ginny interrupted, dread filling her belly. Most of the team had checked in, either from their homes or St. Mungo's, where they had been treated for various minor injuries. But no one had heard from Leandra, Evie or Kennedy Smythe yet. From what Ginny understood from the garbled accounts her teammates had given, the explosion had come from behind the bar, near where they had been standing – where Ginny had been standing – before she'd left to come home.

"We don't know yet, just that she's at St. Mungo's," said Harry. "But that doesn't answer my question about why you never bothered to send me . . . _anyone_ a Patronus to let them know you were okay. I assume you still do know how to cast one?"

"Yes, Harry, I remember," said Ginny peckishly. "And it's not like no one knew where I was. I saw Gavin, I told you that – maybe you should be talking to him. And Gwenog got here pretty quickly and Bindi was here pretty soon after that – she could obviously see I was fine. What's the big deal?"

"The _big_ deal," said Harry, his voice rising, "is that we were trying to confirm the location of everyone who'd been at the pub. And no one could. find. you."

"And I'm the only person unaccounted for? Out of the hundred or so people who were there, I'm the _only_ one no one could find? We still haven't heard about Kennedy or Leandra – who's out looking for them?"

"It's not the same!" yelled Harry. Ginny could see he was gripping his wand so tightly his knuckles were white. "They're not as . . . I mean, you were here! And you're fine!" Red sparks suddenly shot out of the end of Harry's wand and he took a deep breath. "You should have contacted me," he finished more quietly.

 _But now Ginny was angry. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bindi sidle quietly out of the kitchen. What's his problem, anyway? Harry has no right to tell me what to do - he's not even assigned to the Harpies anymore._

"What are you doing here anyway?" she countered. "Shouldn't you be off protecting the Eagles or something? Or did Alicia give you the cold shoulder too and scare you away?"

Harry looked confused. "What do you mean, give me the cold shoulder? I didn't see her after the game. Didn't you get a chance to talk to her?"

"I tried," said Ginny. "But she practically hexed me when I said hello and asked her how she liked the Eagles. Totally unlike her."

"Yeah, it is," said Harry slowly, his brow furrowed.

"Maybe being married to Oliver has made her as crazy over Quidditch as he is. Cause she played like a machine out there. Definitely not the way she played as a reserve for Tutshill last month."

Harry's head snapped up. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry could tell Ginny was already angry at him – her cheeks had gone the kind of red that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with _get out of the way if you don't want to be hexed._ But he couldn't stop himself.

He'd spent a truly hellish 45 minutes pushing through the rubble of the Cloak and Dagger, terrified every time he saw a Harpies-clad figure lying on the ground. Several had looked to be in bad shape and as he'd worked his way towards the back of the pub without finding Ginny, his panic had only grown. An entire section of the wall had collapsed and Aurors had been working as quickly as possible to try to uncover those trapped beneath; Harry had finally had to walk away – he couldn't keep his wand from shaking enough to levitate the stone and brick.

But he was an Auror, and professional detachment was pretty much a job requirement, so as soon as Kingsley had appeared and started giving out assignments, Harry had forced his terror about Ginny into a tiny portion of his brain and focused. Kingsley had first sent him to the back of the pub (or what was left of it), to secure the bar area where the explosion had occurred and over see the collection and transfer of evidence. There had been a lot of liquid on the ground – Firewhiskies, ale, and other mixtures, and all of it had to be siphoned up for analysis at the lab.

It was only when he saw Evie Snopes pulled from the rubble – covered in blood and looking barely alive – that he'd allowed his worry to bubble up again. The only thing that had saved him from running over and pawing through the bricks with his bare hands was the message that Bindi Shah had survived and taken a number of uninjured Harpies back to the flat Ginny shared. With the flat established as a safe-zone, the wards there needed to be checked and strengthened. But Harry knew he would have gone even if Kingsley hadn't sent him.

And now . . . Ginny was fine. _Fine_. She hadn't even been at the pub, when it exploded. But Harry was still furious, the fear and worry he'd pushed away for so long couldn't be denied an outlet, and he let loose.

"Answer me!" he snapped. "Why didn't you tell me this before? You know we're looking into tainted potion ingredients the trainers have been using. The Eagles have lost four different trainers and assistants already."

"No, I did _not_ know," said Ginny. "I'm not an Auror, remember? I'm not privy to any of your top-secret investigations, even though I've somehow ended up smack dab in the middle of half of them." She glared at him. "Usually bent over a sink or up against a tree or something."

"I didn't hear you complaining, at the time," Harry shot back. It occurred to him that maybe they should cast a Silencing charm, but he really didn't care. _So what if everyone knows Ginny and I have been sleeping together – it's not like they'll be shocked. That's what Harpies do – have sex with Aurors._

"Anyway," he continued. "You still should have mentioned that Alicia's behavior didn't seem normal. I mean, I could tell she was playing better than usual but I couldn't focus all my attention on her during the game."

"Well maybe if you'd stuck around for more than two seconds after the game instead of Apparating away the minute I showed up, I would've been able to tell you," said Ginny hotly. "I _wanted_ to get your thoughts on how I played versus Alicia, but you disappeared too fast."

Harry opened his mouth to respond sarcastically that, yeah, sure she wanted him hanging around after such a loss, but Bindi's reappearance in the kitchen distracted him. The look on her face was carefully unreadable, but Ginny's teammates all crowded in behind her, as if waiting to hear what she was going to say.

"I've had a Patronus from Meyers at St. Mungo's," she said carefully. "They've found the last two players – Leandra and Kennedy."

"And did they have news about Evie?" Ginny broke in. Bindi nodded.

"Evie regained consciousness, but is going to be in the hospital for a while; she'll be okay. Kennedy has quite a few broken bones, but they'll mend. But, Leandra . . ." She broke off, looking nervous, and Harry guessed what trainee was going to say. _She's never had to deliver news like this before_ , he realized.

He put a hand on Bindi's arm. "Go on," he said gently.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "Leandra . . . well, the wall fell directly on her. She was with one of the Auror trainees at the time." At this, Bindi looked up at Harry. "Carey Daniels." Harry nodded, and motioned her to continue. Bindi turned to Gwenog. "I'm so sorry," she said.

Harry had always thought of Gwenog Jones as one of the toughest witches he'd ever known. She had built the Harpies from nothing into a Quidditch powerhouse and managed to command respect, admiration, and true affection from all of her players – and many of her opponents. But as Harry watched her learn that Leandra had been killed, Gwenog might as well have been just another mother, hearing her child had been lost to Voldemort during the war. She blanched and swayed on her feet as the words registered; Tamara and Katrina were immediately at her sides, their faces equal masks of grief as the news sunk in.

Harry turned to Ginny, his mind half on pulling her into a hug and trying to make her feel better. He'd not even taken a step forward, though, when in a flash of red, Ginny was enveloped by the other women in a mass of sobbing.

He stood awkwardly back to allow them all their grief, and then looked at Bindi. "And Carey?" he asked quietly.

Bindi shook her head. "Also gone," she confirmed. "He and Leandra . . . well, they were together. In the Gent's loo." She turned red, obviously remembering Ginny's earlier questioning.

"Yeah, well, that happens sometimes, I guess," Harry said. "Damn. Daniels was a good prospect. Any other casualties?"

"A couple of bartenders and a server, and one of the owners is critical. His wife was hysterical when I left, she kept crying that she'd warned him 'not to cross them,' whatever that means. Kingsley plans to question her more when she's calm; right now she's got around-the-clock protection."

Harry looked at the knot of Harpies. They were all still in various stages of hysteria and tears, and not paying him any attention. Except Ginny, who looked up, understanding what Bindi was saying.

"And what about the players? Will we get protection?" she asked quietly.

Bindi nodded. "Harry's to stay here right now, to strengthen the wards and set up additional protections." She looked at him. "Kingsley said for you to contact him – I think he also wants you to get statements and sweep for evidence or anything suspicious."

Gwenog finally looked up at Bindi's words. "Suspicious? Here?"

Harry turned towards the Harpies' captain. "We just don't know right now, Gwenog," he said. "All we know is that someone is targeting Quidditch players, or the places they like to congregate, or the game itself. We need to cover every angle and make sure the flat is truly safe."

Gwenog nodded shakily at Harry. "Where should we all go?" she asked.

"Go sit on the couches in the living room," he decided. "Bindi and I will start up on the roof, checking and modifying the wards and looking for anything unusual."

"Actually," Bindi said, glancing at her watch. "I need to go back to St. Mungo's first. Obviously, we have every Auror working on the case, but a number of them were hurt, and we're short staffed. Kingsley said he'd send over backup as soon as possible, but for now, it'll just be you."

Harry nodded, unsurprised. He did not have to imagine how crazy things were right now. He wondered briefly if Kingsley might need him to be somewhere else right now – somewhere more immediately dangerous – and he automatically stiffened. He'd refuse to go, it was that simple. One day away from the Harpies and Ginny had . . . they'd almost all, been killed. Never again.

He looked at Ginny. Only five minutes earlier they'd been at each others' throats, snapping over petty slights and irrationalities. Now her face was crumpled with hurt and all the anger Harry had felt melted away. She gave him a watery smile and he knew all was forgiven.

"That's fine," he said vaguely to Bindi, still looking at Ginny. "Ginny has had a lot of experience with Dark Wizards and the way they think. She was an original member of Dumbledore's Army and fought in the Final Battle, you know."

"Bindi looked impressed. "Really? I didn't realize . . . I thought . . ." her voice trailed off and she blushed.

"Ginny and I go way back," said Harry firmly. "Her brother is my best friend Ron Weasley - I'm sure -you've heard of him – and she knows almost enough to be an Auror herself, if she wasn't so busy being a hotshot Quidditch star."

At this, Ginny blushed and rolled her eyes. "Enough, Harry." She looked back at her teammates and Harry realized belatedly that his compliment was probably inappropriate right now.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "But you will help me, right?"

Fifteen minutes later, three more Harpies players, plus a trainer and one of the coaches had arrived at the flat, which was rapidly evolving into a safe zone and information center for the team. Gwenog had set up a Floo connection with Leandra's parents and Harry, after several hurried Patronus conversations with Kingsley, had performed several basis diagnostic spells on the living room of the flat, determining that there was no immediate danger. He and Ginny then slipped out the back door and up the fire escape to the roof; the flat was on the top floor of the building and the roof needed to be checked first.

Neither of them spoke while Harry swept his wand over the open area of the roof. Most of it was empty, but one corner held a small garden kept by several of the tenants and immediately to their left, in the corner that got the best sun, Ginny and her teammates had put out Muggle-style lounge chairs for sunbathing on their off days. Behind the chairs was a storage shed where the building's maintenance man kept supplies.

"Right then," Harry said after a moment. "There's no obvious danger. Let's walk the perimeter, I'll go in front. If I get hurt, use your shield charm to get out of here and go back to the stairway to contact Kingsley."

"You sound like Moody," Ginny remarked. "Do you really think it's that dangerous?"

"I have no idea," said Harry grimly. "And that's what worries me. Come on."

They walked slowly around the edge of the roof, Harry muttering spells as he went. The areas they passed glowed alternately red, green and blue, and soon the air seemed to be almost shimmering around them.

Harry stopped when he got to the maintenance shed, eyeing the padlock critically. "Muggle lock," he muttered. "Do you know what's inside?"

"Mops and things, I think," answered Ginny. The maintenance man is a Squib, although much nicer than Flich, thank goodness."

Her voice had gotten very quiet, and Harry looked up from where he was examining the lock to the shed. Ginny was leaning against the low wall that surrounded the roof, looking out over Diagon Alley and possibly even further, into Muggle London. As Harry watched, a single tear snaked down her cheek.

"I'm really sorry about Leandra," he said awkwardly, moving closer. He wasn't quite sure what to say about the death of the Chaser. Of course, any death – especially those caused by Dark Magic – was terrible, but Harry had had mixed feelings about the woman, who'd always seemed to have an inappropriately flirtatious or overtly sexual comment for him.

 _Don't think ill of the dead, Potter. Especially not when Ginny's obviously upset about it._

Ginny wiped her face. "Thanks. It's just, well, Leandra was . . . look. I know she could be a bit . . . forward and inappropriate sometimes, but she had a really good heart. It was all in good fun for her, you know?"

Harry nodded. "I know," he agreed.

"And I think she was just really enjoying being part of the team, and having a good time, and doing what all new players do – well, most of them at least," Ginny went on. "She didn't mean anything by it – teasing us, I mean."

"You're right," said Harry with a bit more conviction. Maybe it was the fact that she was gone, but he was suddenly feeling more charitable towards Leandra. "I don't think she was hitting on me because she wanted to shag me, or anything. She was just having fun shagging everyone else and thinking about her friends and teammates getting some too."

"Exactly," Ginny nodded. "And I think maybe that she was looking for her own 'friend' herself. You know? She had a lot of casual partners, but nothing ever got serious."

A thought struck Harry then, and he hesitated before putting it into words. "Hey, you don't think, I mean, you and me . . . we're not like . . . even though we're . . ." he stuttered, not wanting to say it out loud. Ginny looked at him, confused for a moment as he babbled.

"Oh!" she finally said, comprehension dawning. "No, we aren't like that at all. What you and I are doing . . . well, yeah, it's casual, but it's not the same. Not even close. Because it's just the two of us." She looked up at Harry with a searching expression, biting her lower lip. "It's different. Right?"

Her uncertainty was endearing. Harry swallowed hard. "Right. It's not the same at all. For Leandra, it was all about the sex. For us . . ." he trailed off, not sure what to say.

"Well, it's all about the sex for us too, I guess," Ginny allowed. "But still different," she said again.

"Different," Harry echoed. He looked around the roof. The wards were glowing brightly; they'd give plenty of warning if anyone tried to breach them, and his diagnostic spells had turned up nothing untoward. Ginny's teammates were undoubtedly still mourning down in the flat, but Ginny made no move to go back to the stairwell.

What with the escalating Quidditch mystery and the changes within the Auror department, it had been a long time since the two of them had been _together_ , even if Harry did count the time Ginny had been under his desk. Maybe it was the talk about sex, or the wild range of emotions they'd both shown that evening, or the danger, but Harry realized suddenly that he was becoming aroused. He shifted so that the front of his pants were out of the light coming from the stairwell and tried to look as though he was considering the wards.

 _How inappropriate would it be to . . ._

"So, I was thinking . . ." Ginny interrupted Harry's musings. Her voice was determined, but Harry saw a hint of blush climbing her cheeks.

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't it be a good way to . . . _honor_ Leandra's memory, if we were to . . . you know . . ." The blush deepened as she gestured between the two of them, more or less at waist level.

 _YES_. "Oh. Well," Harry said, trying to sound as if he hadn't just been thinking about the same thing. "That sounds like a good idea . . . but only if you want to, ummm . . ." Harry gestured back, and moved closer until his erection brushed against Ginny's hip. She sucked in her breath and looked at him, eyes wide.

"How do you want to . . ." Harry began. He never got the rest of his sentence out because suddenly there was a bang and a piercing cry rent the air. The far side of the roof glowed white.

Harry had Ginny on the ground before he even knew what he was doing. It wasn't that difficult; her own reflexes had caused her to drop to her stomach only a millisecond after Harry pushed her and she didn't move as he half knelt above her, wand out, covering her body with his.

The cry came again, and then seemed to fade away down the side of the building. After another second, the ward glowed ordinary green again. Harry relaxed. "Cat," he muttered. "Probably jumping from roof to roof looking for mice."

"Poor kitty," said Ginny, her voice somewhat muffled from her position on the ground. "That must have been a nasty shock."

But Harry wasn't really listening anymore. As soon as he knew there was no danger, his mind (and body) had returned immediately to their previous discussion. Ginny was getting onto her hands and knees, preparing to stand, and her bum bumped against Harry's hand, still holding his wand.

"Wait," he said roughly, putting his hand on her back.

Ginny froze and then turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. Harry nodded in answer to the question in her eyes and moved so that he was kneeling directly behind her. She wiggled back until her bum nestled into his belly and he immediately raised himself higher on his knees so that his erection found her instead.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny's middle and leaned forward until his torso was resting almost entirely against her back. He lay his cheek against her hair, and, careful not to put too much weight on her, gently rocked her into him. In response, she moaned and pushed herself back more insistently, hissing when Harry moved one of his hands from her waist to cup between her legs.

"Shall we do it this way, then?" he asked, fumbling with the front of the sweatpants she was wearing and slipping his hand inside the drawstring band. "It's the safest way, you know," he continued conversationally, as if he was merely giving instruction to one of his trainees. "Better to keep a low profile, below the edge of the roof wall."

"Standard Auror procedure, eh?" Ginny responded. Only the tiny hitch in her voice at the end gave away her attempt to match his casualness. "We wouldn't want to break protocol now. Le – Leandra was nothing if not a stickler for Auror protocol."

"Let me show you a bit more then," said Harry, pulling Ginny back so that she was no longer resting on her hands and instead, was sitting against his lap. His penis sent happy little jolts up and down his spine and Harry groaned into the back of Ginny's neck. He'd really missed this.

"Feels so good," he mumbled.

It had been close to useless, he realized, to try to use the vial again. Because any thoughts he locked away just came right back the next time he saw Ginny again. Better to just ignore them and focus on following the rules.

 _Good thing the rules allow this – require it, even._

Harry finally got the drawstring completely loosened and dipped a hand into Ginny's knickers.

"Hmmm, already damp," he remarked. "You've been reading the training manual."

"Mine or yours?" asked Ginny breathlessly as Harry found her clitoris and began to swirl around it with the pad of one finger.

Harry chuckled. "Well, it's definitely part of the Auror manual. What does Gwenog say?"

Ginny nodded as she writhed against him and Harry had to tighten every muscle in his body to stay in control. "She – she says that regular . . . _orgasms_ . . . help keep the body in top physical condition. Ohhhhh." Harry slipped one, then two fingers inside her and moved his thumb directly onto her clit.

"And what," he asked, "Does Gwenog say about _multiple_ orgasms?" With the hand that was not inside Ginny Harry began to stroke lightly up and down her waist, underneath her t-shirt. His penis throbbed for more attention but he continued to ignore it.

 _Not your turn_ , he muttered between his legs as Ginny began to move faster, raising and lowering herself over his fingers. She was coming undone and Harry increased his own movements, putting more pressure on her most sensitive spots.

"Multiple . . ." Ginny gasped, leaning her head back against Harry's shoulder. "Multiple _orgasms . . ._ Gwenog says . . . are . . . are . . . bloody _fantastic_!" Ginny shuddered and cried out and Harry felt new wetness on his fingers. She didn't move from her position against him.

Despite his own need, Harry couldn't stop himself from wrapping both arms around Ginny's waist and holding her in place against him as her breathing slowed. His own body was tight and hard and as much as he yelled at it to _stop, let me enjoy this first -_ he couldn't help thrusting against her back.

Above him, Ginny giggled. Harry tightened his arms and tried to keep still, but it was no use. He thrust again.

Ginny wiggled away and dropped back down to her hands and knees. "Is it part of Auror protocol," she said, looking back over her shoulder and smirking, "to have sex in a different position every time?" She wiggled her bum in Harry's face.

"Well," said Harry, putting his hands on Ginny's hips. He began to slowly lower her pants, rubbing his hands up and down her hips as he bared her skin. "It's not something that just any Auror can do, you know." When Ginny's sweatpants were around her knees she obligingly reached down and pushed them all the way off. "Oh, no?" she asked?

Ginny's knickers were plain cotton, pale yellow and white striped. Despite her current position – their current position – she was all athlete, and those knickers were a hell of a lot sexier on her than the tiny bits of satin and lace Harry knew that many men favored on their witches. His penis thumped insistently again, as if to remind him to stop thinking about how Ginny's knickers looked _on_ her bum, and to start thinking about how they might look _off_ it, preferably forgotten somewhere on the ground. He forced himself back to her question.

"No. Not just any Auror. You have to . . . work . . . your way up." All the time he was talking Harry had been prizing those yellow knickers over Ginny's hips and down, off and away. He was now presented with the most delicious sight of her perfect arse, curls below, and his ultimate goal somewhere in between.

"I assume you are already . . . up. Am I correct?" Ginny was still looking at Harry over her shoulder and her cheeky smile turned to a gasp of pleasure as Harry's hand found her center again.

"I'm definitely up," he said, now fumbling with his own belt and trousers. His erection finally sprang free and he groaned a bit in relief as the tip of his penis brushed Ginny's arse. "Now it's time to show you the most _advanced_ bit of the Auror manual." He took himself in hand and stroked lightly while still fondling Ginny with the other. She moaned and shivered as Harry teased her opening until he could feel she was ready again.

"And what bit is that?" she gasped, already pushing back against his hand.

"The bit about working deep . . . undercover," Harry grunted, leaning over Ginny's back and thrusting into her on the last word. "Not every Auror can master it. Too many . . . of them . . . give themselves _away_ , too early."

"But not you," said Ginny, rocking against him. The motion was awkward at first, but then she caught his rhythm and they moved in tandem; Harry held Ginny's hips as he guided himself in and out.

"Right," said Harry tersely. "Not . . . me. I can . . . stay . . . _hidden,_ " - and here, he plunged deeply inside and then stopped moving - "as long as necessary."

Harry gripped Ginny tightly and hoped she couldn't tell how badly he was lying. She'd already had an orgasm and it was likely to take some work to get her there again. Harry, on the other hand, was already feelings the stirrings of his climax, and it took all his concentration to resist the urge to start thrusting again. Instead, he reached under Ginny and found the spot right above where he'd entered her. Gently at first, and then with more pressure as his own arousal grew, he tickled and rubbed and swirled until she moaned his name.

"And what if you are forced to . . . reveal yourself?" she gasped. Her breath was coming in short pants and Harry could tell by the sporadic tightening around his shaft that she was getting close again. He quickened his ministrations on her clitoris and allowed himself on tiny thrust, and then another.

"A good Auror never reveals himself – or herself – until the absolute right moment." _Which is rapidly approaching, oh Merlin._ Harry couldn't stop the groan of pleasure that escaped his lips and beneath him, Ginny chuckled.

"Unless of course," she drawled, "your opponent is even _better_ than you are." With that, she suddenly pulled up off her arms and leaned back into Harry's lap, still not breaking the connection between them. Reaching down to where their bodies met, she cupped his sac lightly and then stroked it gently. Harry lost it. Rearing back, he thrust into her. And then again, feeling the pressure building in his back and knowing he was powerless to stop it. He tried to think of a final witty comment but as he moved in and out of Ginny, all he could think of was how good it felt and could he hold off just even a second more.

"Let go, Harry," said Ginny. "I'm there . . . let . . . go . . ."

And Harry did. One last thrust and he exploded. The force of his orgasm brought Ginny along with him and the tiny sound of "oh oh oh" that she made as she came made him push against her even more tightly, trying to draw out her own pleasure.

She was still half-sitting on his bent knees and even though Harry was more than enjoying being able to wrap his arms around her waist and drop his face into her hair, he was also getting kind of numb. Still holding Ginny, he sat back on his heels and then shuffled them both until he was sitting on the ground, both pairs of legs splayed in front of them. The movement had caused him to slip out of her, but it didn't really matter anymore.

A breeze blew across them and Ginny shivered. Harry tightened his arms around her and bent his knees until she was sitting almost surrounded by him. Still, neither of them spoke and the only sound was their mingled breathing, slowly calming.

Ginny finally broke the silence. Harry tensed, assuming she was about to move off his lap, but she only shifted a bit and snuggled back into him, murmuring "I see why you are one of the _top_ Aurors, Harry."

"Only when I have a worthy partner, I think," he whispered into her neck. "That makes all the difference."

"I think we did Leandra proud, don't you?" said Ginny. She'd moved her hands down to meet his at her waist and was playing idly, running her thumb over the back of his hand and then threading their fingers together. She didn't say anything more and Harry wondered if the Chaser was all Ginny was thinking about. They'd never stayed together this long, _after_ , and Harry wondered if it would be completely inappropriate to suggest that they move up to one of the cushy-looking lounge chairs that sat only a couple of feet away.

It was a very good thing, Harry reflected only seconds later, that the sender of a Patronus could not _see_ the recipient of a message. He didn't want to imagine what Arthur Weasley would have thought if he could see Harry and his daughter, both completely naked from the waist down, sitting together on the rather cold and hard roof of Ginny's apartment building.

 _And damn, it is cold – I'm going to have to sit on a hot water bottle just to thaw out my arse._

"Harry," the smoky silver weasel said, "I'm contacting you for Kingsley – they've called almost everyone into work. I know you're securing Ginny's flat – thanks for that – but Kingsley needs you back at the Ministry as soon as you're finished. He's sending a couple of other Aurors over to make sure everything is okay with the Harpies. Please get here as soon as possible." The weasel faded away.

In front of him, Harry almost thought he heard Ginny say something that sounded like "damn," but he couldn't be sure. As they slowly disentangled themselves and found knickers and boxers and pants, Ginny kept looking like she wanted to say something. She remained quiet though, and Harry assumed it was about Leandra.

He walked her back down to the back door of the flat and temporarily dropped the wards so they could enter. Just before he Disapparated, Harry touched Ginny's arm. "Hey,"

She had been turned towards the living room, where a number of voices indicated the crowd had grown. Briefly, Harry wished he was staying here, as the one on duty to watch. But he had his orders. Ginny looked curiously at him. "Yes?"

"If, umm, there's a memorial for Leandra . . . let me know, okay?"

Ginny nodded. "I will."


	17. Ball

A/N: We are now getting to the start of the 3 or so chapters that are probably the favorite thing of mine that I've ever written. Everything just did what I needed it to do in these chapters (although I do have a couple of changes planned later on, which I'll mention when we get there). Enjoy - and cringe when necessary. :)

Kingsley Shacklebolt was not even a little bit surprised to see his first visitor the morning after the Cloak and Dagger explosion. He probably would have predicted it even if he hadn't suspected that Harry Potter was shagging Ginny Weasley (and that stunt they had pulled under Harry's desk had certainly been something), except for the fact that the recent attacks had left him too busy to think about anything else.

Even knowing what Harry was going to ask, Kingsley decided not to make it too easy on him. After all, most Aurors would be risking their jobs if they got involved with someone they were supposed to be protecting. But of course, Harry was not most Aurors. He could get away with more because he was better than pretty much anyone else when it came to his job. Kingsley even included himself on that list sometimes.

And Harry actually improved when he was emotionally involved in his cases. It was quite unusual; Kingsley had had to take Aurors off cases when they began to hit too close to home. But Harry just always seemed to be in the right place doing exactly what needed to be done. Even in the early minutes after the Cloak and Dagger exploded, when no one had known if Ginny Weasley was there among the wreckage, Harry had been a machine – taking orders and giving them, walking through the ruined pub helping survivors, his eyes never stopping their scanning for evidence.

But he wasn't going to tell Harry all that; the man wouldn't believe him anyway. Harry's noble streak and self-deprecation were almost as legendary as his defeat of Voldemort at the age of seventeen. He looked over the young man – given his bleary eyes and dusty robes, Kingsley would have bet he hadn't slept – or even been home – all night.

"What can I do for you, Harry? You look like you've just come from the scene – I thought you were securing Miss Weasley's, I mean, the Harpies' flat."

Harry looked up sharply at the mention of Ginny. "I was," he said slowly. "But after I finished . . . checking the wards, and backup arrived, I returned to the pub."

Kingsley nodded, mentally noting the blush that was climbing Harry's cheeks, but not saying anything about it. "I'll need a report about the evidence collected at the scene by this afternoon, will that be a problem?"

Harry shook his head. "No sir, I can have it by then. And a detail of how this latest attack fits the profiles we've been observing as well."

Kingsley nodded, unsurprised that Harry would have so much work on the investigation finished so quickly. Harry was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and looking almost nervous – he obviously wanted to discuss something other than his gathering of evidence. Kingsley decided to put the young man out of his misery and get to the point.

"Is there something else you needed to talk about?"

"I'm going back to the Harpies, sir. I mean, I'm requesting reassignment back to the Harpies. I . . . I think my skills would be best put to use there. The Harpies are in at least as much danger as the Eagles, probably more, and now with the loss of Leandra they're likely to be scared. I know the players and their habits and I think they need me." The words almost exploded out of Harry's mouth, tumbling over each other as if by speaking quickly, he could better get Kingsley to agree.

This was exactly what the head Auror had been expecting and he didn't bother making Harry explain himself before agreeing to the switch. Harry's commitment to the Weasley family was known and understood, as was the fact that he'd work better if he was in a position to keep an eye on Ginny. It was a courtesy the Head Auror would have made for very few.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry was in a crappy mood – there was no way else to say it. Even putting aside the fact that they'd lost two good Aurors (not to mention four others) in the Cloak and Dagger explosion, the investigation was now suggesting things more sinister than concerns about smuggled Firewhisky ingredients or agreements to throw Quidditch matches (two popular theories around the office). The wife of the owner of the Cloak and Dagger had finally been able to tell them that her husband had argued with several men the day before the explosion over his decision to stop accepting certain shipments of _something_ at his bar. She had no idea what the shipments were and the Aurors were still awaiting final analysis of evidence pulled from the rubble to see if the liquids matched any of the ones they were currently tracing.

Harry testily pulled on his cloak over his second-best dress robes he'd worn now three days in a row because of all the memorial services. Today – Carey Daniels' – was the last, and Harry was more than relieved. Even with Kingsley pulling in every possible Auror for security, everyone was uptight, and Harry was not the only person who had voiced the opinion that another attack would come in the middle of one of the memorials – what with their concentrated groups of Quidditch players and Ministry personnel. Leandra's had been the worst. Harry had mentally catalogued every person within hexing distance of Ginny and then hadn't heard a word of the service, so busy was he gripping his wand in his pocket and keeping his eyes and ears focused on looking for anything suspicious.

He hadn't had time for more than a quick word of condolence to Leandra's distraught parents and a squeeze of Ginny's arm at the end before he'd had to leave to make it to the memorial service for Auror Adam Mercury. The watery smile Ginny had given him in return was the only contact they'd had since Leandra had died; Ginny had been with her team almost non-stop and Harry had barely left the office.

Even though he was now officially reassigned back to Harpies' security, the renewed suspension of games had made his presence at the stadium less necessary. And when he had been there, he'd been very careful to give the players – including Ginny – their space to mourn in private. Trainee Gavin Sykes was not so tactful and for once, Harry was glad. The younger Auror kept Harry abreast of all of Ginny's comings and goings so that Harry didn't have to worry. Not all the time, at least.

It was too much like right before they'd broken up, almost exactly a year ago, and it made Harry uncomfortable to remember – what he _could_ remember of that time. Two people too busy once again. The fact that he lacked the utter certainty of a year ago that they were doing the right thing made him uneasy, but he wasn't willing to risk using the vial again. It hadn't worked anyway.

Three hours later, a drained Harry prepared to Apparate into his flat. After the service he'd ended up sitting with three other Aurors in a small Muggle pub discussing theories and ideas about the case. Harry's concentration was trash; he had seen Tamara (her arm around a crying Bindi), at the cemetery, and any reminder of the Harpies still gave Harry a knot in his stomach, thinking how close Ginny had been to getting hurt. It didn't help that he suspected that Ginny was realizing it too, and probably realizing more and more that Harry's job was this dangerous all the time.

He sighed. The night Leandra died he thought they'd ended on a good note – and not just because of the sex. He'd apologized for flying off the handle and Ginny had said she was equally sorry for not checking in with someone after she had learned of the explosion. Something about Ginny's apology and explanation from that night still bothered Harry, but he couldn't figure out exactly what it was. It would come to him, he knew, if he didn't focus on it too closely on it.

And then, for various reasons, he and Ginny hadn't spoken since. He hoped – although had little confidence – that she wasn't avoiding him. Twice he'd gone to talk to Gwenog about security and although there had been other players around, Ginny hadn't been one of them. His moments of panic at her absence only eased when Gavin had pointed out a bright spot of red in the air and Gwenog had mentioned that Ginny was training harder than ever, that she wanted to be in top form whenever games began again.

Right now, however, his brain was too tired to think about anything. He turned on the spot, determined to go home and try to get some rest and put all thoughts of the investigation, memorials, and especially Ginny out of his mind for a couple of hours.

Except there she was. Sitting at the kitchen table, and wearing one of his own jumpers, no less. There was a pile of wedding magazines in front of her (and Ron and Hermione were there too, Harry realized belatedly).

He stuttered to a halt in the doorway. Surprise made him more blunt than he would have liked. "What are you doing here?"

Ginny looked up. "And hello to you too, Harry. I'm helping Hermione pick out bridesmaid dresses. It's a lot of fun." Harry could clearly hear the sarcasm beneath the words, but he was pretty sure Hermione couldn't.

He gave Ginny a sympathetic grimace and started to say something about the wedding, but one look at Ginny's face made him realize that giving Hermione another opening to start debating shades of blue was probably a bad idea. He couldn't think of another topic of discussion and so walked over to the refrigerator and rummaged around inside for something to do, finally grabbing a couple of bottles of butterbeer.

"Hey mate, you got some big package earlier. Took two owls. It's on the counter there." Ron spoke without looking up and Harry was impressed at his best friend's ability to focus on what had to be an activity only slightly less boring than writing a year's worth of dream journal entries for Divination.

Harry plunked a bottle of butterbeer on the table for Ron as he walked past, cuffing him lightly on the head. "Thanks." He grabbed the box warily and swept it with his wand before groaning and slitting it open. "It's just my dress robes. For that damn ball at the Ministry."

Hermione finally looked up from her magazines. "They're still having it? Even with everything that's been going on?"

Harry took a swig of butterbeer and nodded. "Yep. It's for an international delegation of wizards and has been in the works for months. They couldn't just cancel it. Kingsley's going spare trying to coordinate security - not only for the ball, but also for all the Quidditch teams and pubs and things that might be targets." Harry shot a quick glance at Ginny as he spoke. He knew she'd been called in for questioning about Alicia Spinnet-Wood, but he didn't know what else she knew about the investigation. A strong sense to change the subject or deny the danger rose up in him and he just as quickly stifled it. Ginny would hate to know he was worrying about her again.

"Yes, my dad was going on about it too – Mum's getting new dress robes," she said idly, rapidly flicking pages in the magazine. "I like the blue, what do you think?" she said, showing a page to Hermione.

Something in her voice made Harry pause. He feigned interest, leaning over the table. "Which one? Not the one with the stripes?"

Ginny looked up at Harry with something close to amusement on her face. "Don't tell me you're interested in what color Hermione's bridesmaids wear," she said.

Harry shrugged. "The dress you wore to Percy and Audrey's wedding was nice," he said, thinking of their first Christmas after the war, and the surprise engagement and wedding. _And so was the fact that they'd finished half a bottle of firewhisky and done . . . something . . . afterwards._ Harry couldn't exactly remember, which made him suspect that it had been especially nice.

Ginny got a strange look on her face. "I . . . well, yes. That dress was nice. And so was, the wedding. It was. Very . . . nice." Her eyes were far away. A minute later she seemed to come back to herself. "But that was the middle of winter. Navy velvet won't do for a summer wedding."

"I guess not," agreed Harry. Silence fell, and he wasn't sure if it was awkward or not. He stood silently for a second, not really wanting to sit down and get immersed in wedding talk. But just excusing himself to go back to his room seemed rude. The only thing he could think of to talk about was the ongoing Quidditch investigation, and that was pretty much the last thing he wanted to discuss with Ginny.

"So, Harry, who are you taking to the Ministry Ball?"

 _Except that._

 _HPHPHPHPHP_

Ron had been relieved when Harry got home and was desperately trying to think of some excuse to get the two of them _out_ of the flat and _into_ a pub, preferably far away from witches and wedding talk. He supposed he should include Ginny in his escape plans, but really, he needed her to be a diversion. The strain of keeping an interested look on her face as Hermione droned on was starting to show in her increasingly loud sighs and the way she drummed her fingers on the table. Ron suspected his own face reflected his sister's.

But then she had to go and ask Harry about the Ministry Ball, another topic that could keep them all sitting in the kitchen discussing _fashion_ or something equally mundane, for another hour. _What was she thinking?_

She hadn't been thinking, Ron decided. Because anyone who knew Harry knew that his answer would be . . .

"I'm not taking anyone," confirmed Harry. "I'll go for the speeches and dinner and then leave."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "That sounds really _exciting_ ," she said sarcastically. "Why don't you make it a real night and invite Professor McGonagall?"

"Why do I . . ." began Harry.

Ron interrupted. "Who cares who he's taking or not taking, Ginny. Let's get the rest of this bridesmaid stuff finished and then we can all go out for a drink." Including Hermione suddenly didn't seem like such a bad idea – she could keep Ginny occupied and he and Harry could . . .

"Why do I need to take someone?" Harry spoke so quietly Ron almost missed the question. He groaned to himself. _We're never getting out of here._

"Because it's a _ball_ , Harry," Ginny said impatiently. "People dress up. Take a date. Dance." She waved her hand expansively. "You know, because it's fun." She closed the magazine in front of her. "You really need to ask someone. I'm sure you know any number of interesting women who'd want to go. Like, there must be some cute trainees."

Something in her voice made Ron look up. Just about all of Ginny's brothers – Ron very much included – had been on the receiving end of her relationship advice at least once. Her favorite line was to tell the target brother to "just fucking do it," when it came to asking out a witch he fancied, and if that didn't work, she had even been known to use her wand as a tool of persuasion. Most recently, when George had started dating Angelina, Ginny had tolerated Fred's lonely moping around their flat for three whole days before telling him that she was "dragging his sorry arse out to the pub to meet up with some of her friends. Now he was dating one of the Harpies' publicists and Ginny was predicting a double engagement.

But now she sounded different. He rubbed his head. Being with Hermione had made Ron somewhat more aware of matters related to relationships and things, but he usually ended up needing her to decipher exactly what was going on. By the knowing look on his fiancee's face, he knew that at least he was right to think this was more than Ginny playing matchmaker yet again. He looked back and forth between his best mate and his sister.

Ginny was looking at Harry expectantly, eyebrows raised. Harry looked . . . rather angry.

"Cute trainees?" he asked tightly.

To Ron's eyes, Ginny suddenly seemed nervous. "Well, yeah," she said. "You really need a date, you know."

Sure, Ginny's words said she was pushing Harry to invite a witch to the Ministry Ball, but Ron didn't need Hermione to know that this time Ginny didn't exactly mean it. He would have bet all his Galleons on it, even.

"Let me get this straight," said Harry slowly. "You think I need to take a date to the ball, and . . . you _think_ that this date should be one of my 'cute trainees'. Is that right?"

Ginny opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She glanced at Hermione, who was still wearing the knowing look. It annoyed Ron when it was directed at him, but now was sort of comforting. He'd get the entire story from her, later. "I just thought . . ." began Ginny.

"Do you actually _want_ me to take some other witch?" asked Harry incredulously. "After everything we . . ." he broke off, as if suddenly aware that he had an audience, and the last piece of the puzzle clicked in Ron's brain.

"Ginny wants you to ask her!" he announced, proud of himself. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione smirk and give him a slight nod. Her support made Ron even more bold. He tapped his head, trying to remember everything Hermione had ever lectured him about blokes and women in general and Harry and Ginny in particular. He snapped his fingers. "And . . . yes! I know! Even though you guys broke up, you're still friends, and Ginny doesn't _really_ want to hear that Harry's dating some other witch, but she wants to know if he _is._ Am I right?" He looked over at Hermione for confirmation. She'd stopped trying to hide her face and now was laughing outright. Encouraged, Ron continued.

"Plus, Harry really wanted to ask Ginny to the ball, as a friend, but . . . er . . . _what is Hermione's explanation for most bloke's behavior? Oh yeah -_ he was afraid! Yeah, that's right. He was afraid!"

"Don't forget idiotic and clueless," choked Hermione through her giggles. Ron grinned at her. This was fun.

"I was not afraid" said Harry hotly. "Or idiotic. I just didn't think Ginny would be interested in going after . . . everything. I figured she'd want to be with her team."

"Well you could have asked me, instead of making assumptions," said Ginny.

"Why did you tell me to invite some cute Auror trainee then?" Harry countered.

"Because . . . because . . ." Ginny blustered.

"Because you're idiotic and clueless too?" supplied Ron.

"No Ron," snapped Ginny. "Because I knew he didn't want to take anyone – he's too busy being a big, important Auror. I didn't want to interfere with his work."

"Since when have you ever interfered with Harry's work, Ginny? It's not like you're dating him anymore."

Neither Harry nor Ginny would look at him, but Ron caught a blush creeping up Ginny's neck. He paused, confused. He knew that Harry and Ginny's busy lives had been a major cause of their original breakup, but wasn't that all in the past?

"Or are you?" asked Hermione suddenly. "Dating each other, I mean."

"No." Harry and Ginny spoke almost as one. "We're just friends," said Ginny firmly.

"And I suppose we should go to the ball together. As friends," added Harry.

HPHPHPHPHP

They never made it to the pub that night. After the awkward exchange where Harry had – reluctantly – asked her to the ball, Ginny had feigned a headache and Apparated home. Now she was sitting on her sofa flicking through the bridal magazine Hermione had insisted she take with her, not seeing any of the pictures.

 _Harry obviously hadn't wanted to take her to the ball. Guess that whole "friends with benefits" thing only goes so far – and that does not include public displays._

Ginny pushed herself restlessly off the sofa, and, tossing the magazine none too gently aside, wandered into the kitchen. Sighing, she picked up yet another letter from her mother – the third since the attack on the pub – and turned it over to open. Her parents had been flooing at least twice daily "to see how she was holding up" (although Ginny secretly suspected it was also to make sure she wasn't off getting blown up somewhere), and in between she got these letters - full of safety warnings and advice - from her mum.

It was odd, they usually weren't this over-protective. True, the most recent attack had left everyone more skittish than usual, but still, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But if a few extra letters and calls were all it took to keep her parents happy, she was more than willing to put up with them for a while. It wasn't like they were insisting she move home, like Kennedy's parents were.

She ripped open the letter, scanning it quickly for her mother's usual patter. Halfway down the page, Harry's name jumped out at her. _We're so relieved to hear that Harry has gone back to protecting the Harpies –_ _**What?**_

Ginny stopped and read the sentence again. _When did Harry come back to the Harpies?_ True, with the renewed suspension in games during the memorial services and things, Ginny hadn't been to the stadium as much, but there had been a team meeting the day before and a workout that morning, not to mention Ginny's own independent training sessions that gave her time to clear her head and get away from the melancholy of the team. She had even run into Gavin walking the perimeter of their practice field; he'd smiled and said hello – and not mentioned Harry at all.

 _He must not want me to know._ That much was obvious. It was all starting to make sense to Ginny now: Harry's failure to tell her he was back with the Harpies, his reluctance to ask her to the ball, his general avoidance of her altogether, they all added up.

It was the same as it had been a year ago. Harry was busy with work. And she was in the way.

Ginny looked down at the letter again. Her mum's words screamed back at her – _Harry has gone back to the Harpies_ – of course he had – he'd promised her father he'd look after Ginny. And then he'd obviously reported to her family that they didn't have to worry anymore – he was there, turning his back on his other responsibilities to keep an eye on her. Maybe he'd even had to argue with Kingsley about being reassigned – to convince him someone else could take care of the Eagles. She could almost see it in her head – Harry going to the Head Auror's office and explaining that he'd promised Arthur Weasley that he would watch out for Ginny, so it was imperative he go back to the Harpies, despite the fact that there were probably a dozen places he was needed more.

Dimly, she heard a voice that sounded remarkably like Hermione's telling her she was being ridiculous, that of course Harry would want to look out for her, and even more, that the Harpies needed him as much as the Eagles or any of the other places he might be assigned. But right now, she was happy to let her imagination run away with her, and it was easy to ignore that voice as she contemplated Harry trudging reluctantly back to the Harpies to babysit.

And now she'd practically bullied him into taking her to the stupid Ministry ball. Well, actually, Ron had bullied him, but only because Ginny had made those inane comments about Harry asking a trainee. She'd really just wanted to hear why he wasn't taking a date. Really, that was all. And somehow, it had escalated. But one thing was clear. Harry had not had any intention of asking her.

Not that he should have; they'd agreed as soon as they'd made the rules that outside dates were not required or necessary. But still, would it have been so wrong for him to have asked her as a friend? They _were_ friends, after all.

Ginny walked out of the kitchen and back to her room, thankful that her remaining flat mates were not around. In truth, although she'd spent enough time with the team to avoid looking cold and callous, the constant crying of some of her teammates – and the fear and terror of almost all of them – was getting a bit wearing. She had never before considered that her experiences in the D.A. and then the War had made her any different from her teammates, but the truth was, nothing about all the danger particularly unnerved her. Instead, it made her want to fly and train and keep her eyes open for anything suspicious – anything that might help Harry – the Aurors – figure out what was going on. Although Harry apparently lumped her in with all the other Harpies now; his words of praise to Bindi the night of the attack had probably been nothing more than a way to get her up on the roof for a quick shag.

Once again, Ginny ignored the voice that was now yelling at her about being melodramatic and unfair. Instead, she pulled off her clothes and got into bed, hoping sleep would come quickly. She supposed that tomorrow she'd have to go shopping for some new dress robes. And probably try on a couple of those damn bridesmaid dresses at the same time.

At least that would make Hermione happy.

Harry attacked his tie with more force than necessary, resisting the urge to just grab his wand and fix it that way. There was something rather satisfying about tying it the Muggle way when he was irritated– at least it gave him an excuse to swear a lot and take his annoyance out on something that couldn't yell back.

Because that was what he felt like doing. Yelling in frustration. At what, he wasn't quite sure. There was a list, actually, and somewhere on it (although not in the top spot, at least), was Ginny.

His tie would _absolutely not lay flat_. Harry pulled it out from around his neck with enough force that it burned and started over, mumbling to himself under his breath.

 _I thought about asking her, I did. It just felt wrong, after Leandra . . . she should have_ _**known**_ _that._ Harry's first knot was so tight he could barely breathe. Loosening it, he started over again.

 _And the rules . . . the **rules** . . . what the hell was I supposed to do? According to Ginny, I was supposed to just ask some "cute trainee." Where the fuck do her precious rules say anything about asking out other witches? They don't. Anyone knows that. And Ron . . ._

Here, Harry stopped. There was _no way_ he was going to think about any of Ron's opinions. He knew less about these things than Harry, that was a given. _I practically had to get down on one knee and propose to Hermione myself because he was being such a wimp. There's no way . . ._

Finally the tie was finished. This was rather unfortunate because now Harry had to find some other part of his clothing – or anatomy – to abuse. Glancing down, he considered wanking for about a half second before realizing that that was probably a bad idea. He had to be at Ginny's flat, picking her up in less than ten minutes and even though he could probably manage to get off in that time, his tie would never survive.

Instead, he stared in the mirror and tried to figure out some way to fix his hair. This project was suited for Harry's current mood because if there was one thing that almost 20 years of life had taught him it was that trying to "fix" his hair was useless. He poked angrily at it anyway, first with his hands and then his wand, all the while continuing his internal monologue.

 _Obviously, she didn't really want to go with me, else she wouldn't have pushed me to take someone else . . . who the hell did she want me to take, anyway?_

Harry stopped. The rational part of him thought that maybe Ginny was being sensitive to Leandra and wanting to spend time with her team when she suggested he invite someone else to the ball. The rest of him – (the part that was currently tying small knots in his hair) – was certain that she simply did not wish to go with him. It was a Ministry function – probably stuffy and full of long-winded speeches – and there would be precious little chance of any _benefits_ at all.

Yes, that was it. She didn't want to go with him unless sex was involved. In fact, she'd probably be flooing him any minute to say . . .

"Harry?"

Harry jerked so hard he pulled a couple of hairs out of his head. _Ginny's voice, coming from the floo._ He grabbed his wand and hastily rearranged his hair back into its normal messy state and ran into the living room fireplace.

Dancing green flames filled the space, but no one was there. Harry walked closer. "Ginny?"

"I'm here, Harry." Her voice sounded muffled from behind the flames. "I'm not putting my entire head in because I don't want to get covered in soot."

"Is something wrong? I was about to pick you up. Do you need more time?" _If he kept talking, maybe she wouldn't be able to cancel._

"No, everything's fine Harry. But is it okay if I come to your flat and we leave from there?" Ginny's already dim voice got even quieter and Harry had to move quite close to hear her. "Leandra's parents are here, packing, and . . . well, I think it might be better if I come to you."

"Sure, Ginny. I'll fix the wards. You can Apparate to my front door."

The flames died down and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Maybe he'd been right the first time; Ginny was just trying to be sensitive to Leandra's family, that's was the only reason she hadn't wanted to go with him. He stood up and flattened his hair again. _All the other Harpies were probably there, in her flat right now_ , he thought to himself _. Ginny doesn't want to stress the fact that she was leaving for a night of dinner and dancing at a ball._

 _She probably feels guilty about leaving her team, Harry's thoughts continued unchecked. But she's coming with me anyway. Annoyance flashed through him again. Because I'm supposed to keep her safe and she promised her parents she'd listen to me. She didn't really want to come._

It was no use - no matter how he tried to distract himself, it always came back to that.

A faint popping sound outside his door pulled him out of his rant. Harry opened the door, his mind still half on _why's she even coming anyway,_ and froze, all coherent thought flying out of his head.

Ginny looked . . . spectacular. There was no way else to put it and Harry could only stand in the doorway and gawk as she stood on his welcome mat. The dress she wore was not one he remembered seeing before – he was quite certain there was not a charm in the world strong enough to make him forget something like the way the smooth black fabric hugged her curves and then flared lightly around her legs before ending above her knees. It had a slim belt that accentuated her waist and matched the combs holding back her hair in a perfect soft bun, a lone curl trailing down the side of her face.

 _Sweet Merlin_ , Harry thought to himself.

"Uhh, Harry?" He forced himself out of his fog and looked at Ginny, still standing in the doorway and now looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Can I come in?"

Feeling like an idiot, Harry stood back and let her pass. She dropped a black cloak on the back of Harry's sofa before turning to him.

"It's gotten much warmer out, I don't think we'll need cloaks."

"Yes," Harry croaked. "Warm." His mouth was still not working right. He decided to blame Ginny's shoulders, and the way they curved, creamy and smooth, up towards her neck. He stayed behind her, out of her line of sight as he waited for the inevitable tightening in his crotch he was sure was coming. But then Ginny turned and smiled at him, and even though it didn't quite reach her eyes, Harry felt a weird – although distantly familiar - swoop in his stomach instead..

Ginny cocked her head, looking concerned. "Are you okay, Harry?" She bit her lip. "I mean, if you don't want to go . . ." her voice trailed off uncertainly.

"No," said Harry, throwing his own cloak down next to Ginny's. "I want to go. You need to go . . . with me. Let's go." He felt more awkward around her than he had since those first weeks after their breakup. Silently, he picked up his wand and gestured back towards the door she had just come through. Just as silently, she turned around and walked back out into the hallway of his flat.

"You know where the Apparition arrival point is at the Ministry?" he asked after locking his front door.

Ginny backed away from him and Harry belatedly realized that she'd been planning on him taking her side-along. "Yes," she replied tersely, and turned on the spot and disappeared.

 _Damn,_ Harry thought, following her.


	18. and Chains

A/N: I realize this chapter changes back and forth between Ginny's and Harry's POV pretty often. I think it's appropriate, given the action.

Ginny arrived at the Ministry feeling more than flustered. First, she'd been almost struck speechless by the sight of Harry in his dress robes – as long as she lived she knew she'd never get over her attraction to him in the bottle green he'd always favored for his formalwear. He'd been almost forceful when he'd insisted that she needed to go to the ball with him, and Ginny had felt hopeful that it was going to be fine, after all. Then she'd made that stupid blunder about the Apparition even though she had promised herself that she would go out of her way not to pressure Harry. Now she stood in the Atrium of the Ministry watching joyful couples streaming in and feeling like she wanted to turn right around and go home.

She wouldn't leave, she knew, not after Harry had told her she _needed_ to be here, even though his body language told her he'd rather be here alone. She cursed herself for still feeling that attraction to him that would keep her here against her will. It wasn't even a desire for sex, just a wanting to be wherever Harry was.

 _Stop it, Ginevra. Harry **did** ask you. You're friends. Give him a chance and try to have fun._

She was successful enough at lecturing herself that by the time Harry popped into view a few seconds later, Ginny had managed to paste a reasonably realistic smile on her face. She grabbed a couple of glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Harry.

"Thanks," he said, taking a long drink. He took her by the elbow and inclined his head towards the center of the room, where the majority of the guests were. "Shall we?"

The first thing Harry saw as he and Ginny walked further into the crowd at the Ministry ball was the tall, dress-clad figure of Gwenog Jones hurrying towards them with a glass of wine in one hand and a big smile on her face.

"Harry! I see you managed to get Ginny down off her broom and actually out to enjoy herself for an evening. Ginny, that dress is just smashing. Too bad our uniforms don't show more leg, eh? Some of those all-male teams wouldn't stand a chance then."

Ginny laughed tightly as Harry looked at the Harpies captain. Contrary to what he'd expected, she didn't seem at all depressed, or in mourning, or upset that Ginny was out with him. She was here, at the ball _herself_ , for Pete's sake and Harry wondered briefly who her date was. Glancing around for a Ministry official, he instead saw Tamara and Bindi together on the dance floor and a small crowd around Kennedy Smythe, who had a big smile on her face as she sat in a magical wheelchair holding hands with a young wizard Harry recognized from the Department of Magical Sports and Games.

 _What the . . .?_

Harry barely noticed as Gwenog touched his arm briefly and said something before disappearing back into the crowd. He was too busy noticing the other Harpies players who were here at the ball, obviously enjoying themselves with their dates. Ginny clearly had _not_ been reluctant to come with him out of concern for her team.

 _So why didn't she want to come, then?_ Her head was turned away and Harry followed her gaze to a small, dark haired young woman who worked in the evidence lab. She was wearing a tight-fitting red dress with a deep plunge in front, gyrating her hips suggestively as she moved on the dance floor.

"Is that what you meant by 'cute trainees?'' Harry couldn't keep the bitter sarcasm out of his voice. He finished the glass of champagne in his hand and grabbed another from a tray.

Ginny looked startled at his question. He ignored the hurt look that flashed over her face before she answered. "At least she looks like she's having fun." She also grabbed a second glass of champagne and downed it in one gulp.

 _So that's it, then. Why she agreed to come with me._

Harry took her glass and banished it along with his. "We can have fun too." He raised his eyebrows at her. " _Our_ kind of fun, I mean."

"Here?" Ginny seemed almost confused, but at the moment, Harry didn't really care.

"Why not? Being around other people hasn't stopped us before, has it? Anyway, the Ministry is a big place. I'm sure we can find somewhere suitable."

Ginny stared at him for a long moment and Harry suddenly felt hot. He was about add an, "if you want to, of course," when he was engulfed in the kind of hug that could only come from Molly Weasley.

"Harry! Ginny! You came together!" Her mum's face was already a bit red from the wine she was holding as she moved from hugging Harry to her daughter.

"Just as friends, mum," Ginny said. She was still trying to process Harry's suggestion. _So that's what he meant by_ _**needing**_ _me. He insisted I come with him because he wants to shag._ She looked over at him. He appeared to be completely intent on whatever her father was saying, but Ginny recognized the tightening of his jaw – something was bothering him. Before she could analyze Harry's behavior any more her mum was asking her why she hadn't told them she was coming to the ball as Harry's date.

The last thing Ginny wanted was to have her mother start asking all kinds of questions, right here. She smoothed her hand down her mother's arm. "I love your new robes, mum. That golden brown color looks beautiful on you."

Molly was just tipsy enough to be distracted and began taking Ginny through the finer points of her dress. Ginny listened with half an ear, focusing more on her father, who was now talking in a low voice with Harry.

". . . so glad that you could be with her _tonight_ . . ." he was saying. "Asking her was a smart idea."

"I didn't ask . . ." Ginny heard Harry say before the two men were interrupted by Kingsley Shacklebolt and several other men Ginny only vaguely recognized. She gave up all pretense of listening to her mother and instead stewed over what she'd heard.

 _So he was actually going to admit to my **father** that he didn't exactly invite me to the ball? I knew it. Forced me, is more like it. This was just a way to do something nice for my parents – protect their little girl because obviously, she can't take care of herself. All the floo calls and letters of the past week made even more sense now – they were probably communicating with Harry about how often he was able to watch over her and assuring him that her mum and dad would check up on her in between._

". . . be sure to save a dance for me later, Ginny," her father was saying. Kingsley and the other men were gone and her mother was leading her father out to the dance floor. Ginny looked at Harry. His jaw was still tight and as her parents turned away the smile he'd given them faded away again. He jerked his head in the direction of the dancers.

"Do you want to? Dance, I mean." He sounded so unenthusiastic that in any other circumstance Ginny would have laughed; now she just shrugged.

"If you do," she said out loud.

Harry shrugged back and shifted in front of her, looking around. His voice dropped as he stepped in closer. "Or we could, _walk around,_ you know?" He raised his eyebrows.

This time, Ginny was ready. "Sure, Harry, why not? That's what we do, after all."

He gave her an odd look but didn't say anything, just took her elbow again and led her towards the back of the Atrium.

Harry wasn't really thinking about exactly where he and Ginny should go, but when they got near the steps leading to the lower levels of the Ministry and saw no one around, he steered her that way. She looked quizzically at him for a moment but didn't protest.

Inside, his thoughts were swirling. He wasn't sure what he'd expected when Ginny finally agreed to go with him to the ball, but now it was abundantly clear she hadn't wanted to dance and mingle. She slipped a little bit on one of the stone steps and Harry automatically moved his hand to her waist to steady her. Then, he couldn't bring himself to pull it away.

Inside he was cursing the effect that being this close to Ginny was having on his body. Something was going on here besides their normal "friends with benefits" thing, but Harry was dammed if he knew what it was.

 _First she tells me to bring someone else. Then she acts all weird when I invite her, she doesn't need to be with her team, she doesn't want to be with me . . . except for a shag . . . well then, fine. A shag's what she'll get._

He waved his wand at a familiar door and it silently opened. She looked up at him, understanding dawning on her face.

Courtroom Ten.

Ginny wondered what Harry was doing, bringing her _here_ , of all places. As far as she knew, only bad things had happened in this cavernous room: his hearing before Fifth year, the crazy and daring recapture of the locket Horcrux, when Harry, Ron and Hermione had almost been caught. Even without dozens of faces staring down at her from the rows of seats that surrounded them, Ginny felt small and guilty, standing beside a large chair with chains. She looked at Harry. "Why here?"

He shrugged. "Why not?" He was tugging at the neck of his dress robes, loosening his tie and looking around, apparently nonplussed by the locale. "So, you wanna try it in this chair?"

Anger boiled up inside of Ginny. Sure, they'd been having sex in odd places for almost two months now, but it hadn't ever felt dirty or uncomfortable before. It had been fun and silly, and even embarrassing sometimes, but Ginny was beginning to realize it had never been just sex – not really. And now . . .

"Can't you just wait a minute?" she said irritably. "Why is it all about shagging with you?"

"Well there's the pot calling the kettle black," retorted Harry. "Or maybe you think I'd be better off finding one of my cute trainees?"

"Enough with the trainees!" Ginny said sharply. She was close to yelling. "I _said_ I was sorry about that."

"No," said Harry. "No, you didn't. You never said you were sorry. You just told me to invite some cute trainee to the ball and I still don't know why."

"Because you were going to go alone!" said Ginny, exasperated. "And you clearly had no interest in asking me." Her voice wavered a bit and she bit the inside of her lip. _Don't pressure him._ But she was fuming, and her anger helped her gain control. "So why shouldn't you have asked some other Auror, someone who would be able to help, instead of just _distracting_ you from your work."

Harry moved in front of her then, so close she could see his pulse thudding in his neck. His eyes flashed darker green and when he spoke his voice was low and controlled. Only the way his body shuddered and his hands tightened into fists at his sides gave away how close to fury he was.

"Another Auror would certainly not have been any kind of _distraction_ ," he said. "I thought we made it quite clear months ago that neither of us were interested in that sort of thing with anyone . . . else." He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Ginny could practically feel the heat flying off him and she flushed.

 _It had been a stupid thing to say. She knew what the rules were, and now she was breaking them, left and right. But he was too, and it wasn't fair. It did not help her fight at all that Harry looked so sexy right now it practically took her breath away._

"We did say that," she said quietly.

"And have you changed your mind?" Harry had opened his eyes and was staring intensely at her. She swallowed as he took a step towards her and grabbed her wrist.

"No," she whispered. The feeling of his skin on hers made her entire body shiver. She was sure he couldn't miss it and a second later he took another step forward until his body was just barely brushing hers.

"Neither have I," he said.

The air seemed to go out of the room as Ginny looked up at Harry. His face was still tight, but for the first time that night she saw desire there too. He wasn't smiling, and Ginny guessed that he was as powerless to control his physical reactions as she was. She lifted her hand a fraction and then froze. _What was she thinking?_ She'd been half intending to trail her fingers down his cheek, but at the last second she moved it to their waists instead, and then between them, until she cupped the erection she had felt pressing lightly into her belly.

"I can tell," she said.

Harry pushed himself into her hand and Ginny had to take an involuntary step back. Her legs brushed against the seat of the chair and then suddenly she was sitting down in it, Harry still grasping her by the wrist. He moved forward towards her, the bulge in his trousers pushing through the opening in his dress robes. That was all she needed to see.

 _Figures._ Ginny put her hand on his zipper and tugged it down with more force than was probably necessary, throwing Harry slightly off balance. As soon as he let go of her wrist to steady himself against the back of the chair, the chains that had been rattling down at the ground snaked up and wrapped themselves around Ginny's wrists, pinning them to the armrests. She looked up, furious. _If this is why he was so eager to come_ _**here**_ _, of all places . . ._

"Not funny, Harry. I'll give you a blow job first, since you've obviously gone to great lengths to set this all up, but I am not going to be fucking tied up like a criminal while I do it. Now get these off of me."

Harry pushed himself back off the chair and stood up straight again. "I did _not_ set anything up, Ginny. You were the one who grabbed my zip and practically took my dick off in the process. It looked to me like you wanted to give me a blow job."

Ginny glared up at him, tugging angrily at the chains. "Why, so we can get interrupted again before you have to do anything for me?"

"You were the one sucking me off while I was trying to talk to my boss!" Harry yelled back. "People were getting hurt – dying even! It's not my fault I couldn't just throw you across my desk afterwards and shag you senseless." He took a deep breath before continuing in a quieter voice. "And I have no idea why the chains are doing that – probably because they thought you were about to attack me or something."

"I was thinking about it," Ginny growled. She wished she could reach her wand, but it had dropped out of her hand when the chains had moved. She knew Harry would give it to her immediately if she asked, but for some reason, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of helping her, yet again. _Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World and personal protector of Ginny Weasley, saves the day._

She didn't think it was an accident that he'd mentioned his job and people dying and how busy he was. _Just in case I might think he wanted to . . ._ _ohhhhhh._ All thoughts went out of Ginny's head then, because Harry was suddenly on his knees in front of her, waving his wand.

For the second time in a month, Ginny felt the sensation of her knickers disappearing. Harry pushed her dress up and then prized her legs apart, exposing everything. Leaning in close, he blew lightly and Ginny's entire body shivered with pleasure. Despite herself, she groaned.

"I'm going to leave the chains," Harry said. He looked up into her face, as if to gauge her reaction. Ginny nodded jerkily. She wanted to keep yelling, to tell him he didn't need to keep watching out for her, to jump out of the chair and hex every inch of his body.

She didn't want him to stop touching her.

Because he was gently running a finger across her bare thigh and down into her center. Feather-light pressure traced each fold, back and forth, up and down, until Ginny was writhing in delicious agony. It wasn't fair, that he could make her so angry and yet, feel so good. She was mad at him, she was.

"I'm going to use my mouth."

It was not a question, and Ginny gasped with anticipation. Harry had only tried _that_ a few times before they'd broken up. They had both been a little hesitant, and anyway, usually, they had been caught up in all the things they could do _together._

But this wasn't the time to think about the past, or what they normally did. Harry's tongue was exploring _everywhere_ and all Ginny could do was sit there and enjoy the ride. If he wanted to keep her arms chained down, then she wasn't going to feel guilty about the fact that she wasn't doing any of the work. There would be time to repay him afterwards.

As soon as Ginny climaxed, the chains holding her down dropped away. Harry sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, pleased with himself. _That was quite brilliant. Ron actually has something there, stopping Hermione's rants with sex._ He glanced up at Ginny to see if she agreed, although her reaction left little doubt in his mind.

Her eyes were closed and she was leaning against the back of the chair, still breathing heavily. Quickly casting an _Auguamenti_ charm, Harry swished water in his mouth and spit it onto the floor. He stook up and had taken two steps towards the chair when he realized Ginny's eyes were open, watching him.

 _So much for . . . well, it's not like she'd let me . . ._

"What are you doing?" Ginny's voice sounded accusing.

He shrugged, not sure what to say. "Probably not a good idea for me to talk to people upstairs with your . . . you know . . . all over my mouth." Ginny nodded tightly, straightening the skirt on her dress and rubbing her wrists where the chains had left marks. Harry stood up and reached out his hand. "Shall we go back up?"

"What?" Ginny was looking at him with a gobsmacked expression on her face. "You're done?"

 _Isn't that enough?_

"Isn't that enough?" Harry was confused, and Ginny's nonchalance was making him begin to feel the stirrings of anger again. "I mean, I know I don't have much experience down . . . there, but you seemed to enjoy yourself, not that you bothered to tell me." He was being childish and he knew it, but he just couldn't stop.

"Excuse me," said Ginny icily. "I didn't realize you expected a 'thank you' for every orgasm."

"I don't _expect_ anything, Ginny. And I don't understand what your problem is, all of a sudden. A week ago you yelled at me for wanting to come to the ball alone, and told me that balls are for people to dance and have fun. Now, when I suggest that we go do just that, you practically bite my head off."

"Don't you want to, you know?" Ginny gestured towards Harry's crotch.

 _Is that what this is about? Tit for tat?_ In truth, Harry didn't really need _that_ right now. Yes, he'd been aroused, and doing what he'd done to Ginny had stirred up all kinds of feelings in his belly. He'd even felt the start of his own climax when she came, and in another situation it probably wouldn't have taken more than a stroke or two to get him off.

But it wasn't a necessity; he'd not performed cunnilingus on Ginny just to get something in return. It had been exciting for him, seeing her chained up and being able to give her exactly what she wanted – _That's what we do, she'd said_. _What else does she want?_

And now her coldness had effectively killed his arousal anyway. Not that Harry expected anything from her, but really. He'd not only just given her an orgasm that made her scream echo across the entire courtroom – _not bad, Potter_ – but he'd done it using a technique she knew that he'd been nervous to try before. _She could have at least acknowledged it._

She was still staring expectantly at him, and her hand was actually fluttering in mid-air, towards his zipper again, as if just waiting for his okay. For some reason, this irked Harry more than anything.

"Can't you just, I don't know, _enjoy_ yourself for a minute without jumping to return the favor? It's like you have one of Hermione's checklists for how the evening is supposed to go: Have orgasm – check, give Harry orgasm – check." He glared at her. "What's next, we each go find other people to actually _talk_ to, once we've gotten each other off? Maybe your suggestion about finding some trainees wasn't such a bad one after all – I bet Bindi would think you're cute."

Ginny reeled back as if she had been slapped and Harry immediately knew he'd gone too far.

"You are such an ass," she began coldly, standing up stiffly in front of him. Her mouth was set in a thin line and Harry saw her hand twitch towards her wand. He flinched and closed his eyes, bracing himself, but when nothing happened for a second, opened them again.

"I cannot _believe_ you're mad at me because I offered to return your favor," she said. Harry cringed at the look in her eye; it was one he'd seen only rarely before, and only on her mother, when she was really, really furious. This was the face that had killed Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Why does it all have to be about sex for you?" Harry shot back. "I mean, I know that's why you came, but couldn't you at least try to enjoy yourself some other way too?"

"What do you mean, that's why I came? I came with you because you told me you needed me to be here. Everyone was so happy that you were around again to keep me safe. God forbid little Ginny Weasley has to look out for herself." She'd started pacing in front of him, and even in the large room, the effect was to make her look like an angry, caged tiger. Harry was trying to process exactly what she was talking about – _of course he wanted to keep her safe, but that didn't –_ when she whirled around and glared at him.

"And what about you? How long were we upstairs – five minutes, maybe ten – before you were dragging me down here to shag?"

"We didn't . . ." Harry began.

"Yes, Harry, I realize we didn't _shag_ ," said Ginny peckishly. "That was my point before."

Harry closed his eyes and counted to ten before responded. It only helped a little; he couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice no matter how hard he tried. "So sorry that you didn't enjoy yourself. Next time we'll just go straight to the blow job, how's that?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," retorted Ginny. She shook her head and took a deep breath. "What's wrong with me wanting to - you know - to you? It's only fair."

"It doesn't always have to be even and fair!" shot back Harry. He was completely frustrated that their "friends with benefits" had turned into just . . . sex. "I thought . . . oh hell, it doesn't matter what I thought." He ran his fingers through his hair.

"Are you done?" Ginny's voice was still cold.

"Apparently so," said Harry, matching her tone. "Do you still have an objection to going back upstairs? I promise not to ask you to dance, or get you a drink, or even talk to you, if that's what you want."

Ginny glared at him. "You have no idea what I want." She turned her back and began walking towards the door.

"Well that's the bloody truth," muttered Harry behind her. "But do you?"

At the entrance to the Atrium, Ginny painted a fake smile on her face and looked out over the mingling crowd. A number of couples (her parents included, she noticed), were slow dancing near the new Fountain of Magical Equality that graced the center of the room. She looked away, determined not to catch her mum's eye. This was going to be difficult enough as it was.

"You're still here? I figured you'd be off complaining to your teammates about me by now," Harry was at her side, wearing a smile on his face that matched her own. He scanned the room, waving casually to Kingsley and a few others before taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter.

"Right, and have my mum on my case in an instant about where you've gone and don't I think it's dangerous to be apart?" Ginny didn't bother to try to keep the bitterness out of her voice. The feeling of knowing that Harry was only here with her as part of his duties – whether to the Aurors or her parents – was weighing her down, and she was suddenly horrified to feel her eyes prickling with tears. She _did not_ cry, especially not over Harry. She'd only cried over Harry once, and it was not even when they had broken up. She grabbed her own glass of wine and took a drink.

"We just need to act natural," she finally said.

Harry looked at her mulishly. "And what exactly is _natural_ for us, these days?"

Ginny counted to ten. _Couldn't he at least try to make this easy?_ "We're _friends,_ Harry, remember? Just act like my friend."

"Friends, right," muttered Harry. He held out his arm. "Shall we go get a real drink, friend?"

Ginny didn't say anything, just glared and took his arm. "Just steer clear of the dance floor," she warned. "I'd rather avoid my parents for a while."

They talked to each other very little as they negotiated the room, stopping every few minutes to talk to someone or other. Everyone seemed to want to speak to Harry and Ginny was stopped quite a few times herself.

It was odd, as soon as they saw someone's eyes light up in recognition and start towards them, Harry's tight stance would relax and Ginny would plaster the fake smile back on her face. Then they'd talk with whomever it was for a little while, one or the other telling a funny story or listening to a joke, Harry's hand casually on her back. If it was another Auror, he and Harry would speak in half sentences and guarded words, and Ginny knew they were talking about the investigation. Harry glanced at her more during these times, his eyes unreadable.

And then, as soon as they were alone, the façade would fall away and they would start snipping at each other again, Harry commenting on how surprised he was to see so many Harpies there; he'd assumed from Ginny's reluctance to come to the ball that the team was going to be together. Ginny had responded by pointedly asking if he'd rather she go hang out with her team so that Harry could dance with one of the any number of women who stopped him to talk.

Harry's face grew stony at Ginny's question. "If that's what you . . ." he began, but then the two of them were accosted by Gwenog and her date – a handsome man from the Minister's office – and Gavin Sykes, who appeared to be rather drunk, with a Chaser Ginny recognized from the Tornadoes. Tamara and Bindi walked up next, their eyes rather glazed as they looked at each other.

"I was just saying to Lorenzo here," said Gwenog, "that you and Harry make such a handsome couple. Don't they, Tamara?"

"Definitely," Tamara smiled, her arm around Bindi. Next to her, Ginny felt Harry stiffen.

"We're all meeting up after this at the Fatted Calf, are you going to come, Ginny?" Tamara was still speaking but Ginny could barely process the words. From beyond their little group she could see her father spinning her mother across the dance floor. Next to her, Lorenzo was kissing Gwenog's ear and she was giggling in a way Ginny had never heard her do before. Bindi was running her hand up and down Tamara's back and Tamara herself looked much more interested in that than in whatever Ginny was going to answer.

"So, are you going to come, Ginny?" Gavin at least was paying attention. "And you, Harry? It should be fun."

"No," they both answered, almost simultaneously. At their words, Tamara looked up again. "You both seem quite certain about that," she said with an air of forced casualness. Then she smirked. "They do have quite a nice loo at this pub, I've heard."

Ginny chuckled weakly. "That's good to know."

"You know, of course," broke in Bindi, a wicked look in her eye, "rooftops can be awfully nice too, so I've heard."

" _Thank you, Bindi_ " Harry said stiffly. Ginny thought the young trainee would have at least blushed, but she just flashed a cocky (and rather drunk) grin.

"And what was that song Meyers and Dirkson were singing the other day? 'Harry and his Harpy, underneath a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G?"

"That's enough, Bindi," Harry's voice had risen and Gwenog looked back and forth between him and Ginny, eyebrows raised, before she and Lorenzo tactfully melted back into the crowd. Tamara was tugging on Bindi's arm. "Hope you change your mind, Ginny," she said as they walked away.

Gavin slapped Harry on the back. "Witches," he said conspiratorially. "What are you going to do?" He gave Ginny a one-armed hug. "Go home, you two. Get some rest, shag, do whatever it is you two do." He waggled his eyebrows and squeezed his date, who looked like she hadn't heard a word anyone had said. "I know I will."

When Gavin was finally gone, Harry let out a breath. "Fuck," he said. Ginny started. Harry almost never cursed. "What?" she asked.

"Everyone knows . . . about us," he said. He turned on her. "Who'd you tell?"

"Me? What about you? Half the time we've had sex it was in the middle of some god-damned Auror emergency – I'm surprised they don't have pictures of us shagging to use as an example for the trainees of what not to do when you're on a case."

"Oh, and you weren't telling Evie and Leandra stories about how you attacked me in the training room, and in Bristol, and behind the stadium . . ."

"In the training room? I was facedown on the fucking table! How exactly, Harry, did I _attack_ you then?" Ginny glared at him.

Harry shrugged. "Under my desk, then."

"I didn't hear you complaining at the time," Ginny retorted.

"Of course not. As soon as we were done, you were off somewhere else."

"Just like you were, tonight." _What had happened to them, that they couldn't even have a civilized conversation?_ Ginny felt like she couldn't say anything nice even if she had wanted to. And here, surrounded by happy couples, co-workers, and both of their bosses, they couldn't even have a proper fight. _Although, what exactly are we fighting about?_ They were trading barbs like she sometimes heard Ron and Hermione do, but for them, it had always been a kind of fiery foreplay. Right now, Ginny felt anything but aroused. And Harry apparently felt the same way.

"I need to get out of here," he muttered. "This was a mistake."

 _Ginny froze. Had he meant for her to hear that? Was he just going to leave her here? "Yeah, it was," she finally said. "Let's go."_

Harry stared at her. "You're coming with me?"

Only the fact that they were in the middle of several hundred people kept Ginny from hexing him right there. "No, Harry. I thought I'd stay and dance with as many blokes as I could. Maybe even give a blow job or two under their desks. That wouldn't make people talk or anything." She glared at him. "Anyway, I left my cloak at your flat and it has some notes in the pocket from our team meeting."

"Fine," said Harry curtly. "Come on."

He grabbed her by the arm and led her through the crowd so quickly she almost tripped. Once or twice she thought people were looking at them oddly, but they were moving so fast she couldn't really tell. They didn't even stop to say goodbye to Kingsley or her parents.

Harry strode right by the Apparition point and headed towards the elevator that would take them out to the Muggle street. "Uhh, Harry?" Ginny asked, panting from keeping up with his pace.

"I need to walk," was all he said, and a moment later they were together in the tiny elevator/phone booth. Harry dropped Ginny's arm and held himself as far away from her as possible, looking fixedly out the window even though there was nothing to see but the black inside of the elevator shaft.

"What do you want to tell people" Ginny asked. "About why we left, I mean." Because someone was sure to notice, and ask.

"I don't care," said Harry. "They'll probably just assume we're off shagging anyway."

Ginny stopped trying to talk, after that. Block after block, they walked silently through the streets. Occasionally, their arms would brush and just as swiftly, they'd each pull away, lost in their own thoughts.

For her part, Ginny was too angry to even be confused over Harry's behavior. As far as she was concerned, the night had gone exactly as she should have suspected from the moment Harry had felt forced into asking her. Instead of giving her time to cool off, the walk had quite the opposite effect. Over and over in her head, she reviewed every word he'd said to her that night, every obnoxious comment and snide remark, and by the time they reached the street where Harry's building was located, she was fuming.

With Ginny walking beside him, clearly angry, Harry couldn't relax. Everything had gone wrong tonight and Harry wasn't sure why. He just knew that being at the ball with Ginny had felt – unnatural. They hadn't fit in with the happily together couples, they were clearly different from people like Gavin and his new witch every night, and now, for some reason, they couldn't just shag casually according to their own rules.

He couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment when it had all gone to hell – before they'd even gone down to the courtroom, probably. But for a moment or two there, he'd thought everything was going to be all right. And then Ginny had gotten totally irrational. Not for the first time that night he wondered what she wanted from him.

He was about to ask her that – ask her what the _hell_ she wanted, when she spoke, as if they'd been talking – or arguing – the entire walk home. They had just arrived at Harry's flat and he was fumbling with the key he hardly ever used – the building was all-wizard even though it was on a Muggle street – when she huffed behind him.

"And honestly, why _did_ you ask me to go with you, anyway? Because you sure as hell didn't act like you wanted me there. I stay with you and you wonder why I'm not with my team. You talk to my parents about keeping me safe, but as long as you know I am, you don't want to have anything to do with me. I want to make sure you're enjoying yourself down in the courtroom and you pull away."

They were in the building by now, Harry taking the steps two at a time to get up to his flat. Right before his landing he whirled around and looked at her.

"I was too busy waiting for you to grab some 'cute trainee' and shove her in my direction to pay much attention to anything else," he retorted. He was struggling to keep his voice down, at least until they were in the apartment. "You didn't want to dance, you didn't want to mingle – all you wanted was to have sex, and yet, even that wasn't good enough for you. I'm sorry my technique wasn't up to your standards."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to make it a bit more personal for you, Harry," Ginny's voice was cold behind him as he opened the door to his flat. "But going down on me while I'm chained to a chair and we're barely talking is not the way we've ever done things. Even recently."

 _Thud._

The sound of Harry slamming the door shut wasn't quite loud enough to drown out the crash from his living room. He looked up to see Ron standing there with his wand out, the large box he'd apparently just been levitating now on the floor in front of him. He looked rapidly back and forth between Harry and Ginny.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

Harry wondered for one wild moment if he could play dumb and pretend that Ginny had not just screamed something about their recent bondage game in front of her brother and – _oh shit –_ the twins, who'd just appeared from the hallway. Apparently, Ron had picked this night to move out. Any hopes that having an audience would calm Ginny down were dashed when she turned her back on her brothers and continued her rant, no longer bothering to keep her voice down.

"I mean, you couldn't even fucking kiss me, Harry. Sure, you could run your tongue all over my clit, but you couldn't put it on my lips?"

"Did she just say . . ."

"Yes, Gred, I think she did."

"Clit? You had your _tongue_ on my sister's . . . _down there_?"

"All right, Ginny! I didn't think you had it in you."

"Well technically, Forge, it sounds like Harry had it in her."

The voices didn't stop and Harry suppressed the urge to silence them all – Ginny would probably find something offensive about that too. He opened his mouth to respond to her but she didn't take a breath, talking right over her brothers in a taunting sort of voice.

"Oh no, that would be wrong, wrong, wrong. Better just rinse out your mouth and get back to discussing _tactics_ with your Auror buddies." Her eyes were glittering with anger. "You haven't kissed me _once_ in all the time we've been . . .whatever!" she yelled.

"That's because it was one of the rules!" he yelled back.

"It was _not_ one of the rules," said Ginny. "You just . . ."

"What rules?" Ron's confused voice broke through the haze of Harry's anger. "Cause if you're talking about _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches,_ mate, I'm pretty sure that kissing is allowed. And anyway, why should you be kissing my sister anyway? You certainly haven't been acting like you want to kiss her."

"Will you just stop giving me bloody relationship advice, Ron!" Harry knew he probably shouldn't turn on his best friend right now, but he pretty much felt like yelling at anyone who got in his way. _And seriously. Did Ron actually think he knew anything about . . . well, anything?_ Harry conveniently ignored the fact that Ron had known Ginny for a long time – lived with her even, and had a fairly healthy respect for his sister's moods and talent with a wand.

Instead of getting mad, Ron just rolled his eyes. "Right mate, and I don't know a thing about fighting – and making up – with witches. Have you met my fiancée?"

"This is completely different, Ronald." Ginny was glaring at her brother. "Because Harry and I are certainly not going to be ending this fight by falling into bed and fucking each other's brains out."

"Sounds like you already did that earlier, no?" said George conversationally. "Or was that just a one-sided thing?"

"No, Harry wasn't interested in having sex earlier," said Ginny. Harry heard the bitterness in her voice and his frustration rose again.

"I didn't say that," he said sharply. "I just told you it didn't have to be perfectly equal, every time. Believe it or not, I can still enjoy myself without an orgasm." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the twins snorting, their faces identical masks of amusement. _I am never going to live this down,_ Harry thought. _Assuming I survive the night at all._

"Right," said Ginny. "As long as you don't have to kiss me or anything. Please, Harry, refresh my memory. During which recent time did you _enjoy yourself_ without a climax? Because I can't remember. Was it when you took me up against a tree after that Harpies game or in the gent's loo at the pub? Or maybe it was that time you scared one of our trainers right out of the room by straddling me in the middle of a post-workout sports massage – was that it? Maybe it was when you got on top of me in the storage room at the pub in Bristol or you grabbed me up in the stands in the middle of one of my training sessions, not to mention the time I was wedged under your desk sucking you off while you had a bloody pow-wow with Kingsley. Tell me, Harry, when exactly have you enjoyed yourself without getting off? What in our past makes you think I'd believe that load of crap?"

Fred and George had stopped laughing and were looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny with a look that could almost be described as awe.

"Good man, Harry, did you really shag our sister all those places? Recently?"

"You forgot about the garden at the Burrow," said Harry to Ginny. Behind him, he thought he heard Ron choke. "At the Burrow too?" he asked weakly.

Harry was beyond angry now. The last two months had been something personal, private, between him and Ginny. They had agreed to keep it that way – to keep it from everyone. And while Harry was relieved to see that neither Ron not the twins seemed interested in hexing him to bits – _she does still have three other brothers and a father, though_ – they were still probably the last people who really needed to know the intimate details of their relationship.

"You should believe it because it's true," he snapped. "I've never done anything but tell you the truth. I've done everything right, here, Ginny. I've followed all the rules and given you your space and worked to make sure you've enjoyed yourself – while keeping you from getting killed why I was at it, may I add. What exactly, have I done wrong? Which of your many, and multiple, orgasms did you not enjoy?"

Harry barely heard her next comment. "I knew this was all about keeping me safe," she muttered under her breath. But before he could process what she meant, she'd raised her voice again. "Don't try to turn this around and make me look like the one who's done anything wrong her, Harry. I haven't broken any of your precious _rules_ either. I've never gotten in the way of your work – unless you've dragged me into the middle of it so you could fuck me, and I haven't breathed a word of it to anyone. It's not my fault that you're really bad at subtlety and silencing charms."

Ron seemed to have found his voice. "Have you noticed," he asked his brothers, "that they both seem to be saying pretty much the same thing to each other? That should tell us all something, don't you think?"

"Shut up, Ron!" Harry and Ginny yelled at the same time, both turning furious faces away from each other for a minute.

Ron shrugged. "I rest my case."

Harry ignored him. He could deal with Ron's stupid prattling later. "You have made it more than clear, Ginny," he said in a dangerously calm voice, "that you are not interested in anything with me that's not purely physical. Don't worry, I won't make that mistake again. Next time I need a date, I'll just take you up on your suggestion and ask a 'cute trainee.' Maybe you can even help me pick one out."

Ginny's face was so tight with anger that she could barely get her next words out. But when she spoke, her voice matched the calm of Harry's. "You do that," she said in clipped tones. "And why don't you assign one of those trainees to childmind me the next time you and my parents think I need watching. I'm sure Gavin or some other bloke is more than up to the task of keeping me safe." She grabbed her cloak up from the sofa.

"I'm sorry that the idea of spending more time with me is so repulsive to you. I guess I should be spending more bloody time with my team, after all." She turned towards her brothers, and for one, brief second, Harry thought he saw a flash of vulnerability across her face.

"Ron, Fred, George," she began in a voice that held the barest hint of pleading. "Please. Don't tell mum and dad. They'll only overreact, and then worry Harry's not watching over me anymore."

Harry looked up. _Watching over her_?

To their credit, Ginny's brothers all nodded solemnly; for once, Fred and George had nothing to say. She turned back to Harry, her face hard.

"If you hurry, Harry, you may have time to get back to the ball for the end. I'll bet someone will have saved you a dance." She walked stiffly to the door, and opened it.

"I'll be at the pub." The door closed and Harry heard the crack of Apparition.


	19. Clue by Four

Ginny was shaking so much as she Apparated away from Harry's that she was surprised she didn't splinch herself; although she had her destination firmly in mind, both her determination and deliberation were severely lacking. As it was she had to take several minutes outside the Fatted Calf pub to calm down and arrange her features in a sufficiently cheerful manner before she entered.

 _I'll tell everyone Harry wasn't feeling well - no, they'll wonder why I'm not at his flat taking care of him. Maybe a work emergency – except there'll probably be other Aurors here, they'll know that's not true. Hell, how am I going to explain that I'm alone?_

Distracted by her musings, Ginny entered the pub and was halfway to the bar before she realized she hadn't brought any money with her. She also didn't see any of her teammates. Sighing to herself, she headed towards one of the rooms farther back to look for Evie and some of the others who hadn't gone to the ball.

 _Come off it, Ginny. Is this really where you want to be?_

The voice in her head was clear, accusing, and sounded an awful lot like her brother Ron. He'd been easy to ignore in Harry's flat; Ginny had been too angry. But now, standing alone in the noisy pub, Ginny stopped short.

 _I should go back._

The fight between her and Harry was too big to ignore, too big for her to be able to sit and drink and joke and pretend everything was fine. It had probably been brewing for days now, ever since she'd goaded him into inviting her to the ball. Now she had a sick feeling in her stomach that nothing was going to be right between them ever again. Maybe she was overreacting, but something had changed tonight, and Ginny knew it was going to take more than a simple 'I'm sorry' from each of them to fix it.

Her body prickled with indecision as she looked farther into the pub. Another step forward, and she'd just stay. Maybe it would be better to let things cool off between them first. But she couldn't make her body move in that direction. If she stayed, she'd be no good at all to her friends, she knew. But the thought of going back and facing everything they had said to each other was terrifying, and she didn't know if she was ready.

So she stood in the middle of the pub, gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she tried to figure out what to do. The voice spoke again.

 _Come on, Ginny. You know you want to talk to him. Don't be an idiot._

"I'm _not_ being an idiot," she said to the air. "I'm not."

 _Well then, go back and talk to him and apologize. Were you even listening to what he said?_

Ginny had muttered "Shut up, Ron," before she realized she was talking out loud to herself. And the truth was, she hadn't really been paying attention to exactly what Harry was saying – she had been too busy listening for those bits that made her the most mad.

But now, with the random noise of the pub rising and falling around her and nothing to distract her, it was not so easy to ignore what he had probably meant.

She had been incredibly hurt down in the courtroom when he'd wanted to leave right after she had finished. All she had been able to think at that time was _he doesn't want me_. That stupid, leftover little girl insecurity was still there, even though she thought it had been banished about the time Harry had first kissed her in the common room.

 _You know Harry better than that. He wanted you. He was just being sweet and noble and unselfish._

Ginny sighed. It would be so _like_ Harry to have been stewing all this time over the fact that she'd given him that blow job under his desk and he had not been able to return the favor. He probably saw it as only fair that he not get anything in return this time.

 _And what else had he said? That he'd enjoyed himself anyway, right?_

This time, the voice sounded a lot more like her own. And before she could even snort with disbelief that Harry could actually have a good time simply because he was giving her pleasure, the voice continued.

 _You feel the same way about him._

It was true. Despite what she had yelled in anger, those moments under his desk, knowing what she was doing – what was going on above her – had been exciting and hot and erotic, and she had not cared in the slightest that Harry had not been able to take care of her afterwards. That's the way things were sometimes. It didn't have to always be even . . .

 _Shit._

Because that was exactly what he had said to her . . .

Even though no one was looking at her in the dark of the bar, Ginny flushed and sat down weakly at an empty table. The thought that maybe Harry had been sincere, that he really had wanted to take her back up to the ball and dance and mingle, wouldn't go away. She groaned and put her head in her hands, trying to think of something to make this all better. Because right now, she was feeling like she'd been a total bitch.

 _He didn't ask you to the ball right out. And he made all those comments about trainees._

Ginny sighed and tried to recapture some of the blinding anger she'd felt back at the ball and then at Harry's flat, but remembering Harry's comments only made her feel worse. She had been the one to bring up the cute trainees in the first place, and it wasn't like he had asked someone else to the ball, he'd just told her he was planning on doing what he always did – take no one and leave early.

 _Why didn't you just ask if he wanted to take you? Did you really think he'd appreciate being told to take someone else?_

Ginny could see clearly now what a stupid thing that had been to say. Harry was so incredibly private – he had no interest in doing anything with any of the witches that seemed to be constantly throwing themselves at him. And here, Ginny had been offering to do the throwing for him! No wonder he'd been reluctant to ask her instead – it had probably looked like she didn't want to go with him.

 _I did want him to take me. But not because I wanted to have sex. I just wanted to be with him. I just wanted him to ask me because . . ._

The truth was staring at her in the face and Ginny gave up trying to hide from it. Maybe the vial allowed her to ignore her old desires and memories, but there was no doubt that the new ones said the same thing: she was in love with Harry. Still. Or again.

Something was tickling at the edge of Ginny's brain. Bits and pieces of what Harry had said earlier were coming back to her. And without the haze of anger in front of them, their meaning suddenly seemed blindingly clear.

 _That's because it was one of the rules! . . . I've never done anything but tell you the truth . . . I've followed all the rules and given you your space and worked to make sure you've enjoyed yourself . . ._

 _ **Given me my space? I thought I was giving him his space!**_

 _You have made it more than clear that you are not interested in anything with me that's not purely physical. Don't worry, I won't make that mistake again._

 _ **He thinks I'm not interested in anything with him except sex?**_

And just like that, Ginny's carefully constructed _understanding_ of just what Harry wanted from her collapsed.

She'd let herself assume that he was only looking out for her because of a sense of duty, that she had to make it as easy for him as possible to be an Auror because that was what he wanted. It was why she had insisted that it was okay that they break up. Even then, it had hurt so much that she'd had to remove the best feelings and memories from their time together. The shadows that remained were more like a dull ache that she had learned to live with.

As long as Harry had what he wanted, Ginny was okay ignoring the creeping doubt in her own life. But what if she'd been wrong about him too?

Sitting there in the bar alone, Ginny let the memories – the new ones, wash over her.

How Harry looked at her when he covered her body with his to protect her, and the vulnerability on his face when she'd found him after he'd hit the tree on his broom. He'd flirted with her at the Burrow and then taken care of her when she'd needed it. He'd wanted to stay with her then, she realized. A word from her and he probably would have.

She recalled the panic in his voice when he came to her flat after the Cloak and Dagger exploded – panic reserved only for her – but not because she needed watching. He had always treated her as his equal, even though she wasn't an Auror. And she had made assumptions and twisted his concern into some misguided idea of _duty_. If it was true, if Harry felt the way Ginny suspected, he must have been incredibly hurt tonight. Her behavior had been nearly inexcusable. Yes, he'd been a prat right back to her, but now every look, every retort he'd given her had a very different meaning.

 _Why hadn't she been able to see that there might have been more?_

Abruptly, Ginny stood up. Her musings could only take her so far and she was tired of trying to analyze everything alone. She needed to talk to Harry, face to face -to see if any of what she suspected was actually true. She was going to apologize to him, at the least. Even if he didn't want to talk to her about anything else, she owed him that much.

Ginny began threading her way through the crowd back to the front of the bar. She moved as quickly as possible, before she could change her mind.

"Ginny!" The voice, to her right, was loud and panicked enough to pull her out of her thoughts. She looked around. _Gavin._ She arranged her face back into its bland smile.

"Hi Gavin, how was the rest of the ball? Is your date here?"

"What are you doing here?" Gavin ignored her pleasantries. "You're supposed to be with . . . why aren't you with Harry? At his flat?"

"He's . . ." Ginny paused, her story not straight in her head. She shrugged. "I was just . . . meeting some of my teammates here instead. But I think I'm going to leave – to find Harry," she added quickly. If she said it out loud, she'd have to do it. She looked closer at Gavin. His eyes were darting around the bar and he seemed to tremble with nervous energy. At one point, his eyes rested on a small group of men in a booth before continuing their circuit.

"Is something wrong?"

Gavin looked at the booth again. "No . . . well, maybe. You shouldn't be here," he said hurriedly. Ginny noticed him wringing his hands and she stiffened. _Something was going on._

"Gavin, what is it?"

Gavin looked back again and then seemed to relax. Ginny saw him nod to himself before he put one arm congenially around her shoulder. "It's nothing, Ginny, really. The Aurors think, I mean, we're just being our usual suspicious selves."

"Who else is here? Have you let anyone know?" Something felt off, but Ginny couldn't put her finger on it.

Gavin was still maneuvering her towards the front of the bar. "No need Ginny, really. I'm just investigating a couple of things - I'll take care of it. It's nothing," he said again. They had almost reached the front door.

"Gavin, I . . ." Ginny began, but he held up his hand and gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the door.

"Go home, Ginny. Hang out with Harry – he really could use a rest, you know? He works too hard. I'll be able to handle a couple of unruly customers here." His calm demeanor seemed to slip a little and he looked back into the pub again. "Really, you should go." He gave her a weak smile and disappeared rapidly through the crowd.

Ginny stood just inside the door of the pub, trying to figure out what felt off. No one had seemed out of control at the pub – it had been fairly calm, actually. What could Gavin be . . .

Without even completing her thought, Ginny had pushed her way to the front of the pub and pulled out her wand and said the spell to send a talking Patronus to Harry. She knew exactly what felt off and it chilled her. Talking as quietly and as quickly as she could, she looked at the shimmering stallion beside her.

 _Harry, come to the Fatted Calf as soon as possible. I just ran into Gavin – he's here alone and told me he's investigating something. But he's a trainee – he can't be investigating anything alone, right? And he seemed really nervous, and there were . . ._

A huge explosion knocked Ginny to the ground from behind and she felt the heat of an enormous fireball that whizzed over her head. Wincing in pain as bricks and ash began to rain down on her she managed to look up to see the silver horse still waiting patiently above her. Gasping, she raised her wand.

 _Harry . . . explosion . . . Fatted Calf._ A flick, and she sent the Patronus into the air, just as another fireball blew out the front windows of the pub, showering Ginny with broken glass and catching the edge of her robes on fire. Thick smoke poured out, blinding her, but she lifted her wand one more time and said the spell to send her message a second time just as something solid and heavy landed on top of her.

HPHPHPHPHP

As soon as Ginny had Apparated away from his flat Harry had fallen onto his sofa and put his head in his hands. _What the hell just happened?_

"What the fuck was that?" Ron was direct, staring at Harry as if he'd grown another head or something.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Fred smirked. "That was hurricane Ginny." He looked over at Harry, the smile fading from his eyes.

"A better question might be, why?"

"Wasn't it obvious?" Ron retorted to his brother. He had moved away from his dropped box and now perched on the arm of the sofa. "Cause Harry pissed her off."

"Thanks, Ron. I needed to hear that," said Harry tiredly. He looked up. "And anyway, it wasn't only me. We just both . . . couldn't get along tonight." There was more to it, of course, but Harry didn't want to think about it. Unfortunately, it looked like he wasn't going to have a choice.

"But let me get this straight, and believe me, I'm going to pretend with all my might that we are _not_ talking about my sister," Ron was looking seriously at Harry. "The two of you have been shagging all over the place, including during her work and yours, at the Burrow and the Ministry, and yet, you haven't even kissed her?" Ron gave Harry an incredulous look. "Even I know how wrong that is."

"It's not like that Ron. We had rules." Harry absolutely did not want to discuss his and Ginny's arrangement with her brothers. But now Fred and George had pulled up chairs and sat down across from the sofa. They both gave him identical looks that clearly said he wasn't going anywhere until he spilled details. He sighed. The twins could be worse than a couple of girls sometimes.

"And not kissing was one of the rules?" Ron looked skeptical.

"I thought it was . . ." Harry began.

"But Ginny thought differently," concluded George. "So this fight was about you not kissing her?"

"No!" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It wasn't about kissing, not really." He stopped. "It was about . . . well, everything. And nothing," he concluded weakly.

"Well, that clarifies things," snorted Ron. He looked earnestly at Harry. "You _did_ want to take her to the ball, right? Cause last week when you asked her, you were being sort of a prat about it."

Now Harry was indignant. "Me? You were here – she was the one bugging me about inviting one of my trainees instead."

Ron nodded sagely in a way that reminded Harry eerily of Hermione. "Yes, well, that's only because Ginny was probably too nervous to ask if you would just invite her. Instead of getting all mad, you should have told her that of course she was the only one you wanted to take."

"Then why didn't she just say that!" cried Harry. "We're friends – good friends. She should be able to ask me things like that." He looked back and forth between Ron and the twins. Both Fred and George were being uncharacteristically silent

"So, you wanted to take her, then?" The twins seemed content to let Ron do all the talking.

"Of course I wanted to take her!" said Harry with exasperation. "But I thought . . . I mean, we'd kind of agreed . . ."

"If you're such good friends, you should have been able to ask her." Ron threw Harry's own words back at him.

"That's right." Fred and George were nodding. "You know, Gred, I think something else is going on here, don't you?"

"You're absolutely right, Forge. Just plain _friends_ shouldn't have this much trouble talking to each other."

"Friends with benefits, you mean," snorted Ron. He opened his eyes. "So which is it, mate? Are you and Ginny just friends?"

Harry leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.

"No," he whispered, almost to himself. The truth that had been nagging the back of his mind ever since he'd realized that he couldn't use his vial anymore finally reached out and smacked him on the forehead. Actually, it had probably been longer than that. Like, from the time he hadn't wanted to leave Ginny, hungover, at the Burrow at least. He opened his eyes to see three sets staring back at him.

"It's more than friends," he admitted out loud. "Much more."

"What is it, then?" asked Ron. "Is it . . ."

"Don't," said Harry sharply. "This isn't . . . I mean, I need to talk to Ginny. _Alone_." He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't even know if she . . ."

"Bloody Hell, Harry, of course she does!" interrupted Ron. "D'you really think she'd waste her time screaming at a bloke she didn't care about? She'd just hex him instead, and go on her way." He slid down onto the sofa proper and rested his hands behind his head, looking pleased with himself.

"Well she did go on her way," muttered Harry. _Shit, and I just let her go!_ He jumped up.

"I need to go find . . ."

The rest of Harry's words died in his mouth as Ginny's Patronus suddenly dropped into their midst. He listened with growing horror as Ginny's voice spoke, calmly but urgently at first and then suddenly gasped out the final few words before fading away in a burst of noise.

Ron, Fred and George were on their feet with Harry in an instant, wands out. "I'll see you there," was all he said before turning on the spot and Apparating away.

Even though it couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes for Ginny's Patronus to arrive at his flat, by the time Harry appeared in the park across from the Fatted Calf the scene was already one of pandemonium. The building was on fire; whether as a result of some explosion or because it had been deliberately set, Harry couldn't tell. The structure was much larger than the Cloak and Dagger, which made it difficult to determine how much damage there was, especially further back, and the smoke and flames made things – and people - hard to see.

People were streaming out of the building, most covered in soot and ashes and many sporting burns or other injuries. There was no sign of Ginny.

A number of pops around announced the arrival of Ron, Fred and George. They looked in horror at the burning pub across the street.

Harry was already running across the park. He turned around and yelled at them, "Contact Kingsley – get help, now!"

Ron nodded tersely, but before he could get a single word out, Kingsley was suddenly there with Cabot Dirksen, Scott Meyers, Bindi Shah and a number of others, all still in their dress robes like Harry. They fanned out automatically, following protocol for emergencies without needing any more direction.

Fred and George looked at each other. "Mum and dad," Harry heard one of them say before they both Disapparated again.

Harry fell in step next to his boss. "How did you . . ."

"I got Ginny's Patronus at the ball." He looked at Harry. "Where is she? Arthur and Molly heard it . . . they'll be here soon."

"I just got here myself," said Harry. "Her message faded out in the middle . . ." He looked questioningly at Kingsley.

The man nodded. "She sent me the same message she sent you." He swore. "I'm sure she's right about Sykes. There was always something a bit off about him – why didn't we see it?"

Harry didn't answer. They were right in front of the pub now. In spite of the fact that the front seemed to be blown away, he could barely see two feet inside because of the smoke and flames. Coughing, he watched as several Aurors performed Bubble Head charms and pushed their way inside, looking for the injured.

Kingsley glanced at Harry. "We need to make a sweep of the people who've gotten out already. Start asking what they saw or heard while it's still fresh in their minds."

Harry nodded automatically, his eyes still scanning the scene for a flash of familiar red. Kingsley paused. "But first," he began in a much different voice. Harry looked up.

"Go find her, Harry," said Kingsley quietly. "Make sure she'd okay. Then you can be an Auror." He smiled. "Merlin knows, you deserve a break."

Harry's first instinct was to protest, to push his own needs away as usual. He opened his mouth to tell Kingsley not to worry, that he could handle this. But the words wouldn't come. _Ginny was missing._ He nodded, marveling for only a second that that Kingsley understood so much, so quickly. "Thank you, sir. I'll . . . it shouldn't . . ."

"Take as long as you need, Harry. Practically the entire Auror force came here from the ball. We have enough manpower without you."

Harry nodded again and then turned to sprint off towards one of the groups of people that were starting to form around the scene.

Several injured bar patrons were lying on the ground, already being tended to by Healers from St. Mungo's. Harry's eyes scanned over them quickly, learning what he needed to know in a matter of seconds. He turned and moved towards another group.

In the center of the next crowd was a woman, covered in blood. Harry caught a glimpse of a Harpies logo on her robe and his heart stopped until the Healer tending her moved away and Harry could see the woman's face. It was one of the trainers he knew well, someone Ginny had been good friends with.

"She's the worst of the lot from the back room," Harry heard someone say behind him. "A bunch of Quidditch players were at the two big tables."

The trainer's eyes fluttered feebly and she looked around, her gaze falling on Harry. He knelt down and touched her gently on the shoulder. "Calliope, can you hear me? It's Harry Potter." Calliope nodded.

"Have you seen Ginny, Calliope? She was at the pub. Was she with you?"

Calliope moved her head slightly back and forth, wincing at the effort. "No," she gasped. "We didn't think she was going to come. Bindi sent a message saying she was going to be with you." Her eyes focused a bit more. "Wasn't she?"

"No," said Harry, feeling a bit like he was going to vomit, "she wasn't."

He stood up quickly, moving to the next group, and then the next, making a wide arc around the front of the pub, searching each group of survivors.

Ten minutes later he arrived back near the front of the building again. Ron was there, helping move some of the larger pieces of brick and wood out of the way. He looked up when Harry appeared, his eyes widening when he realized Harry was still alone.

"You didn't find her?" he asked sharply, the bit of window he was levitating crashing to the ground.

Mutely, Harry shook his head. He was about to ask Ron if he'd seen Kingsley when there was a rushing by his ear and he heard his boss' voice, reporting to the Aurors as a group.

"I believe all the survivors are out," he said. "We have several bodies in the middle of the main room that have yet to be removed, including Gavin Sykes and . . ."

Harry stopped listening. All the air seemed to go out of him as he pushed past Ron and ran into the still smoldering pub.

He hadn't bothered to perform a Bubble Head charm and even though the fire was out, the smoke was still heavy in the air. Harry crouched as he ran, his eyes darting back and forth along the floor, peering under smashed tables and the half-burned bar until he hit something solid.

It was Cabot Dirksen. He was leaning over several figures on the floor, each covered with a blanket.

Harry could barely get the words out. He gestured with his hand at the bodies, not even caring that it was shaking so hard he almost dropped his wand.

"Are they all . . ." he began, choking on the question.

Dirksen nodded. "Dead." he said curtly. "Gavin Sykes and three of the blokes we've been trailing."

"Blokes?" he managed. "No . . . no witches?"

Dirksen looked at him curiously. "No. One of them was the owner of the Eagles, though."

Harry wasn't paying attention. "And you're sure no one else is in here?"

Dirksen shrugged. "The _Homonem Revilio_ hasn't turned up anything else."

 _But that spell only detects . . ._ Harry couldn't finish the thought. Straightening up, he pushed aside a table and headed further into the pub.

"Watch out, Harry! It's still unstable back there."

Dirksen's voice barely registered as Harry moved quickly to the far back room of the pub. His heart was beating in his throat and every glowing ember laying on the ground looked like fiery red hair.

The back hallway of the pub was barely negotiable and Harry had to pick his way over burnt furniture and broken glass as he edged towards the second bar area. A creaking sound to one side made him whirl around in hope, but it was just one of the wooden booths, teetering precariously for a moment before collapsing. Something blue and fabric peeked out from under a table. _Ginny's cloak is blue_. Harry moved so fast he didn't feel the slashing pain in his leg as he kicked aside a pile of splintered wood or the burn in his hands when they grabbed a white hot metal chair to throw it aside. He knelt down in the ash and began pushing aside the rubble, trying to get to the object below. _No, please, no. Not Ginny,_ he kept thinking to himself.

The fabric was stuck under a large piece of the bar, which seemed to have been blown onto its side. Harry pulled out his wand and tried to concentrate enough to say the words that would lift something that heavy up into the air. He didn't hear the way the walls kept creaking around him, all he could think was _Wingardium Leviosa._ Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand, willing himself not to imagine what he might be about to find.

So intent was he on his task that Harry didn't hear the groan of beams above his head. Taking a deep breath, he began the incantation, just as the weakened ceiling gave way and collapsed on top of him.

Ginny was still behind the pub with a Bindi and Tamara and a couple Aurors when the roof collapsed.

"I hope everyone got out," she said to the others, finally lowering her wand and massaging her sore arm. After one of the bar patrons had pulled her out of the way of the fire and doused her robes, she'd run to the back of the building to help fight the flames from that angle. The fire had been sending out several types of blinding magical smoke and getting it under control was not easy. Bindi and Tamara had arrived with the Aurors minutes later, Bindi reporting that Harry had gotten her Patronus and was here as well, somewhere.

Ginny didn't go looking for Harry while he was so obviously needed to help, but it didn't bother her. Her determination to speak to him and to be honest and put everything to right had only grown in the last hour; she could wait a little longer until they could talk without being interrupted.

It was only when she heard the rushing air of one of Kingsley's private messages and saw Bindi's face turn attentive, and then white, did she feel a prick of fear. Bindi was looking at her with an unreadable expression, nodding into the air at whatever she was hearing.

"Yes, she's here with me," Ginny heard her say and the look in the young Auror's eyes made her go cold. Bindi sighed, and then nodded into the air. "No, I can do it," she said quietly.

"What is it?" Ginny was direct, and to her relief, Bindi didn't try to sugar coat her news.

"Harry was in the pub when the ceiling collapsed. It fell right on top of him. They're trying to get to him now.

Ginny felt her legs give way beneath her; only though superhuman effort was she able to remain upright.

"Where?" she asked, not even sure what she meant. Her head was spinning. _Had to get to Harry._ If she could just talk to him, she could make everything all right. He couldn't be hurt – not after she had hurt him so badly herself, earlier. _It has to be a mistake._

Bindi put her hand on Ginny's arm. "He's in a back room. They're going in through the front because of the residue from the fire back here." She squeezed. "They're doing everything they can.

 _Not good enough._

Fear and panic made Ginny's mind remarkably focused. She nodded, then lifted her wand . Bindi obviously thought Ginny was in shock. "He can't hear a Patronus right now," the Auror said, tugging lightly on Ginny's arm. "Let's go wait in the front."

Ginny pulled out of Bindi's grasp and pointed her wand at the back door of the pub. "Alohamora," she whispered firmly, watching it swing open.

"Ginny, where are you . . . you can't!" Bindi's voice faded into the background and Ginny slipped through the door.


	20. It Was Always You, Part I

A/N: I made a few changes to this chapter. It's always bugged me that Kingsley and the others just left Ginny alone to take care of an obviously very hurt Harry. I hope this way makes a little more sense.

The dread in Ginny's belly made her feel like she had just swallowed a Bludger. Picking her way through the rubble from the fallen roof was slow and she had to force herself not to simply blast it away with her wand; Harry could be anywhere. The light from the nearly full moon shown through the gaping hole in the ceiling but Ginny said _Lumos_ anyway out of habit. She swung her wand quickly around the space, some tiny part of her hoping that she'd see Harry sitting in plain sight, maybe scratched up a bit but otherwise okay. But there was only devastation in every direction. The doorway to the front part of the bar was completely caved in and blocked, although Ginny could hear the sound of movement behind it.

"H-harry?" she whispered, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice. _Too quiet._ "Harry, can you hear me?" she said more forcefully. "It's Ginny." Still, there was no sound.

Ginny knew what she had to do next, what Auror procedure was in cases like these. The thought of what she might be about to learn made her stomach heave; she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting. Raising her wand higher she swept it in a circle around the room.

" _Homenum Revelio"_ she said as clearly as she could. There was a soft noise and Ginny felt a breeze swoop lightly over her. A second later, her wand vibrated once, identifying her. Ginny stood frozen, gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles were white.

Nothing else happened.

Ginny saw stars begin to shine in front of her eyes; the walls of the room were closing in on her as surely as they had on Harry, and still she couldn't move.

 _No-no-no-no-no-no._

Ginny's wand was sweaty in her hand. It was slipping out of her grasp and she didn't care. It could drop to the floor, get crushed to splinters or burnt to ash for all she cared. Harry was dead.

 _It vibrated._

Ginny jerked her head up and looked wildly around, half thinking she'd imagined the feeling of the wand buzzing in her hand. She whispered the spell again and almost immediately felt the first vibration. A pause, and then more feebly, but still there, another.

 _Alive. Harry was alive._

The relief Ginny felt was fleeting and almost immediately replaced with a sense of action. She had to find him, _now._

As she rotated in a circle, barely daring to breath, a crash from the way she had come in startled her. Her head jerked up towards the very back hallway of the bar. Another wall had collapsed, one she had passed when she entered. Possibly it had been weakened when she had pushed open the back door to the pub.

Ginny ignored it and kept moving in a careful circle in the center of the room, refuseing to even blink. Finally, on her third rotation she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Part of a wooden beam seemed to shift; she heard the faintest scratching against the brick.

The beam was leaning against an upturned table. Ginny moved gingerly forward until she could almost touch it. A good bit of the ceiling had fallen here and was lying awkwardly against the beam. And under it, curled on his side against the table, was Harry.

Later, Ginny barely remembered how she lifted the wood and brick away so she could get to him. She knew a deadly calm had come over her and she had worked quickly and precisely so that by the time Kingsley's Patronus arrived, she was already kneeling beside Harry, assessing him for injuries.

 _Ginny, are you okay? That collapse in the back . . . did you find him? Is he. . .?_ Even by Patronus, Ginny could hear the tension in Kingsley's voice. _We are working to get to you from the front and back; we had to set freezing charms to keep anything else from collapsing, but it makes it more difficult to get through the rubble. Send me a Patronus and let me know. . ."_ The voice faded away.

Swiftly, Ginny sent her own Patronus back to Kingsley. _Harry alive, but unconscious. Need a healer. I'll . . . I'll do what I can._

Message sent, Ginny took a deep breath. Harry moaned and shuffled, and Ginny felt a tiny prick of relief that maybe Harry wasn't as injured as he first appeared.

She looked down, struck with a strong sense of déjà vu. "The things you get yourself into Potter," she muttered to herself as she gently pulled open the front of his robes and regarded the widening patch of blood on his shirt. "Didn't I just heal this after you decided to fly into a bloody tree?"

She probed the area lightly with her fingertips and was gratified when Harry flinched, although his eyes were still closed, his mouth slack.

"I know it hurts," she said conversationally, ripping away his shirt. "Honestly, I think you do these things just so I can have the chance to see you without your shirt on – not that I'm complaining, mind you. But unbuttoning them like a normal bloke works just fine too. You could avoid all the drama and I'd still want to . . . be with you."

It was much easier to talk to Harry while he was unconscious. Ginny began dabbing at his largest wound with a piece of his torn shirt while she continued chatting away.

"Because I do, you know. Want to be with you. And not because the shagging's fantastic. Although it is. Really, really fantastic." Despite herself, Ginny blushed.

Pulling away more torn fabric, she considered a long scratch on his side. "It's a good thing you're unconscious right now," she continued, "because I don't want anyone to hear what I'm going to say next." She took a deep breath. "You see, Ron was right. I did want you to take me to the ball. I don't know why I couldn't just come right out and say that . . . I sure bolloxed things up with that whole 'cute trainee' thing, didn't I?"

Leaning over, Ginny traced her wand down the scratch in Harry's side, muttering a spell as she went. His body jerked a bit as the wound healed and she nodded to herself, satisfied, before turning back to the bigger gash. It was still bleeding, and she closed her eyes for a minute, trying to remember the order of spells for larger injuries.

"And the thing is," she went on, "the thing is . . . I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got all crazy and sorry for pretty much everything I said to you at the ball, and at your flat. And, I'm especially sorry I yelled all that stuff in front of my brothers. I'll help you Obliviate them later, if you want." Ginny picked up one of Harry's hands and rubbed her thumb across the back of it where it was covered with tiny scratches and splinters of wood. Even after she said the spell to clean it, she couldn't bring herself to let go.

"I didn't just want to go to the ball to shag, Harry." His hand jerked in hers and she looked up quickly, but Harry's eyes were still closed. "I don't know how we got to that point, but I want you to know – that being with you . . . is more than just . . . well, it's more." Ginny shook her head to herself and looked back at Harry. She needed to focus on healing him, not talking him into even more of a stupor. She knit her brow together and pointed her wand at his chest.

"It's always been more for me too, Ginny."

Ginny's eyes snapped open. Harry had spoken quietly, but his eyes were open and clear. He tried to smile, but it almost immediately turned into a grimace of pain. Looking into his face more closely, she saw a large cut on the side of his head, snaking back into his hair. She put the cloth against it and pressed firmly.

"Did you hear everything I said?" she asked.

"Enough," he said. "And . . . I'm sorry too. For everything I said. Especially down in the courtroom. I should have known you wouldn't . . ." his voice died away in a wince of pain and he closed his eyes again.

"I told Kinsgley to get a healer in here, they are working on it," Ginny said quietly. There was a lot of blood ,and even though most of Harry's wounds seemed fairly superficial, she wasn't sure where to start. More than that, she didn't want to hurt him.

"I'm glad we have a second," Harry said. Ginny saw him swallow hard. "Are _you_ okay? Your Patronus was kind of . . .it got everyone here quickly. That was a really good thing."

"I'm fine," said Ginny. "Just a little singed, but no big deal." She looked down at him again, a bit of the terror she'd felt was finally receding and the relief was making her a little giddy.

"You stupid, noble git. Why in Merlin's name would you run into a burning building after everyone else was out?"

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry moved restlessly, the broken bricks under him digging into his back. "I was looking for you," he mumbled. He was fairly certain they were past the anger and pettiness of earlier, but his thoughts were woozy from the pain and shock and he didn't want to make any more mistakes.

He opened his eyes again, searching until they found hers. "But," he said as firmly as he could past the searing pain in his side, "not because I thought you needed watching out for, and not because it makes your parents happy and not because it's my job."

Reaching up, he grabbed the hand that Ginny was moving across his stomach where she was still trying to staunch some of the blood that flowed sluggishly down his robes. She was absolutely still as she looked back at him; the terror Harry had seen on her face when he'd first come to had eased somewhat. Now her face was a mixture of concern and determination, and something else he felt that he was finally close to identifying.

"Why did you?" she whispered, running her fingers over the back of his hand. "Come looking for me, I mean."

Harry swallowed hard, the pain actually making honesty come easier. He had to do this right – say this right. After all the missed opportunities and miscommunication and just plain stupidity, he didn't want them to mess it up again. Not because he knew this was his only chance to say it; there would be lots more chances, and he intended to use them all. But he was tired of swallowing back the truth and denying what he really wanted. He was going to put it out there for Ginny to hear.

"Uhhh, Ginny? How is he?" Suddenly Kingsley was there, peering concernedly down at Harry, who felt slightly ridiculous all of a sudden, laying there on the floor.

 _That man must have a sixth sense about the absolute worst possible times to interrupt_ , thought Harry to himself. He tried to sit up but everything started to go black and he fell awkwardly into Ginny who had to help him back down again.

"I think he'll be fine," replied Ginny grimly. "As long as he doesn't try to do anything stupid like move on his own for a while." She made a sound under her breath that sounded a lot like 'idiot' and Harry grinned to hear something so normal from her.

"I'm fine, sir," he broke in. "Just a little dizzy. But I'm sorry I couldn't be more help with the crowd."

"Not a problem," said Kingsley. "I'm glad you found Miss Weasley, or rather, that she found _you._ " The man raised his eyebrows and Harry felt himself flush.

"Is he ready to be moved?" Kingsley asked. "We need to start clearing this space and collecting evidence. There's a tent set up for first aid, and seeing that Potter here is the only one who hasn't been attended to, you should have some privacy."

Ginny nodded. "It should be safe, although the cut on his chest is still bleeding. I think he got hit across the front with that falling beam."

Harry felt himself being lifted into the air on a stretcher. He reached out his hand and almost immediately felt Ginny take it in hers as they began to move through the bar. From his position he could only make out the ceiling (what was left of it), and bits and pieces of the walls. It was a bit disconcerting, not being able to see what was coming, but lifting his head made him dizzy.

At the entrance to the pub, Harry heard Ginny mutter something and suddenly the ceiling went blurry. He squeezed her hand.

"Did you . . .?" he began, just as Kingsley said, "nice one, Ginny."

Ginny had cast an Obsfu charm over him and his immediate surroundings. As soon as they got outside, Harry understood why. From the sound of it, there must have been at least several dozen people around including (he suspected), the press. The charm prevented anyone from seeing him or Ginny; a large, hazy cloud covered them and the Aurors that walked on either side of the stretcher.

A minute later the stretcher bumped gently on the ground inside one of the first aid tents and almost immediately Harry was surrounded by a sea of red: Ron, Fred and George.

"Comfortable there, Harry? Do you need a pillow? How about a mug of butterbeer?" George was peering down at him, a grin on his face.

"We're just going to let eight or ten members of the press in here, you don't mind, do you mate?" Fred was appraising Harry frankly. "I think Witch Weekly would be particularly interested in getting a couple of photos of you without your shirt."

"Pull off his pants and he just might make the front page," George quipped back. "Ginny? Want to do the honors?"

"Enough, both of you," said Ginny. "Aren't you at least going to tell Harry that you're glad he's okay?"

"Nah, that's Ronniekins' job," said Fred. "He's the one that's been giving Harry advice these past weeks. It was probably his idea for Harry to go running into a collapsing building looking for you instead of, say, sending a Patronus."

"Hey, if Harry had listened to me in the first place he would have avoided all of this," said Ron indignantly. He looked at Harry. "Why _didn't_ you just send her a Patronus, mate?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "It didn't occur to me . . . at the time," he said. What he didn't say was that, in his earlier panicked state, he was lucky to have remembered his own name, let alone the complex spell needed to send a Patronus. He looked up at Ginny. "But yours was great, Gin. It got everyone here fast."

He was pleased to see a real smile on face and it made him more anxious than ever to talk to her – alone. Ginny apparently had the same idea because in the next second she said, "Ron, Fred, George – I love you all. Now, get out of here. Go see your girlfiends and things. Tell Mum and Dad we're fine. Harry and I need to talk."

"That's what I've been trying to _tell_ you," said Ron plaintively. He clamped Harry on the shoulder. "Oops, sorry," he said, seeing Harry wince. "I'm glad you're okay mate. Even though you've been acting bloody mental." He glanced at Ginny and then gave Harry a significant look. "Just don't fuck it up again."

"Was that last comment for you or for me?" Ginny said to Harry as her brothers Apparated away.

"I think we can both take it to heart," said Harry. He looked up at Ginny. "Because I know I don't want to mess this up again."

"Me neither," said Ginny quietly.

"I've been lying to myself, you know," Harry continued. He looked up at Ginny and she nodded for him to continue.

"I'll be just . . ." she gestured down at his chest and began tracing the wounds with her wand, quietly whispering the healing spells. Harry felt the familiar coolness and then warmth that signified his skin was being repaired and he sighed as the pain began to recede.

"I've been telling myself that I was happy." Harry picked up the thread of his thoughts. Above him, he could see Ginny's mouth tighten slightly.

"But you weren't," she said.

"Not completely, not always," said Harry. "Not happy enough." He was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Ginny didn't say anything either, just continued to attend to his injuries. She pulled away more of his ruined shirt and ran her hand briskly down his side and Harry could not help but think of the last time Ginny had healed him. This time, he knew, she was not going to start anything else; they both understood that only words would fix things now.

"When I . . . when _we_ broke up," he said, "I thought it was the best thing for you. The Harpies liked to . . . you know. They always . . . and we - I thought I was holding you back." The words would not come easily. It all seemed kind of unbelievable now, what he'd convinced himself was right, and now, saying it all out loud, it sounded even more ridiculous.

"I never . . ." began Ginny.

"No, I know you didn't." Harry rushed to reassure her. There was so much he needed to say, and any little bit of it alone could make things worse.

She seemed to hear the pleading in his voice and her mouth worked into a small smile. "Sorry," she said. "I'll listen quietly."

Harry smiled back at her, some of his nervousness easing at her words. _It's Ginny,_ he reminded himself. "It's okay," he said. "I promise to listen to you too."

Harry took a deep breath and decided to just say it outright. "I always tried to make sure I wasn't getting in your way. And in the process, I ignored everything I really wanted."

"What is it that you wanted?" asked Ginny quietly. She'd stopped her wand movements above him and now the warmth Harry felt on his skin was from the shirt she'd conjured to replace his torn one.

"I wanted . . . I _still_ want . . . to be with you. Completely – not just for . . . physical things. Although I want that too," he added hurriedly and was gratified to see another hint of a grin cross Ginny's face.

"And I think I can be. With you, I mean. And still not get in the way of your work. I know better now."

"Harry," said Ginny. The overly patient tone in her voice reminded Harry of someone talking to a small child. " You've never gotten in the way of my work. Quite the opposite, actually."

Hope flickered in Harry's chest. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean," said Ginny, "that I like knowing that you're around. It makes me play better, knowing that you're there cheering me on."

"I'll always be there to cheer you on Ginny, you know that," Harry replied. "But when you aren't actually playing . . ."

"When I'm not actually playing you still don't bother me. If you haven't noticed, I like being with you. More than I like being with pretty much anyone else. You can talk intelligently about Quidditch, you know when I need to talk about things other than Quidditch, you give me a good excuse to avoid all the blokes who just want to say they shagged a Harpy, and . . . (here, Ginny waggled her eyebrows suggestively), you give one hell of a massage."

"I thought you needed to be spending more time with your team," said Harry quietly. It was so glaringly obvious to him how wrong he'd been, but he needed to hear Ginny say it anyway.

Instead, she bit her lip.

 _"What?" he asked. Maybe I misread the situation._

"I thought you needed to be spending more time at your work too," she said. "And that you were only working for the Harpies because you'd promised my parents you'd look out for me."

Harry closed his eyes. _Could they really have screwed things up so badly?_ He opened them again and grabbed Ginny's hands. "Not even close," he said. He reached up and put his hand on her chin, lifting it until her eyes met his. "Not even close," he whispered again.

Harry saw Ginny shiver at his touch. Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing only slightly from the lingering pain. She was looking at him with wide eyes, waiting.

"Ginny, I worked for the Harpies because I couldn't stand being away from you. I was so relieved I had an excuse to be there, because I worried all the time that I was keeping you from spending more time with your team. The other night, when I thought you were at the Cloak and Dagger, I almost lost it. And tonight . . ." He took a deep breath. "Tonight was even worse." Harry blinked rapidly against the sudden prickling of tears in his eyes. There was so much more he wanted to say, but the lump in his throat kept him from continuing. He ran his hand down Ginny's cheek and across her lips, waiting.

Ginny took a long moment before she answered, and Harry braced himself to hear her let him down easy. Not that he thought she was going to, not after all . . . well, everything, but he held his breath anyway, knowing that her next words could not be coming any easier than his own had.

"These past months," she finally began. "After . . . well, you know." She blushed, suddenly. Harry understood. Being here, now, on the other side of the months of pretending, of denying themselves everything that made sense, made even thinking about what they had done instead feel . . . off.

"I was actually proud of myself," she went on. "Because I could do this – just be your friend, I mean. Without . . ." She paused, took a deep breath. "I wasn't getting in the way of what you wanted, what I _thought_ you wanted," she corrected herself. "I convinced myself that it was right. I actually _believed_ it, that it was good just to be your friend. I couldn't hold you back, if I was just your friend. I didn't have to make demands on you that you wouldn't want to keep."

She stopped again, and Harry could see the tears, unshed, glistening in her eyes. He wanted to do so many things, say so many things to her, but he didn't. He'd had his turn, and she knew how he felt. They both understood the mistakes they'd made, trying to be too good for the other. He finally just took her hand, gently, and rubbed his thumb across it. Just the tiniest bit of contact to show he would listen, and hear.

"But then I realized, I have a lot of friends in my life already. Great friends, who've been so much for me, when I needed it, and whose lives are a part of mine, but who are not my . . . who don't . . ." She shook her head, almost to herself, before looking back up at Harry, the tears he heard in her voice finally snaking their way down her cheeks. "I have enough _friends_ , Harry _._ I don't need any more."

His voice was almost a whisper when he asked, "What _do_ you need, Ginny?"

Ginny took a deep, shuddering breath, and her voice was ragged with the emotion that she couldn't keep from spilling over.

"I need . . . I need to be _us_ again, Harry. I need to love you every day without worrying about whether what I'm doing might be right in theory, but is all wrong for you and me. I need to stop ignoring what I really want just because I have some ridiculous view of what I think I _should_ want."

Harry had started to cry too. The words they should have said to each other, that they should have understood about each other so long ago, finally made sense. Moving stiffly, he gathered Ginny in his arms and pulled her into his lap, tucking her head under his chin. But she wasn't done, and her next words made him shiver with feelings he thought had been lost in the past months.

"And Harry, I need . . . I need you to make love with me. Slowly. Thoughtfully. . ."

". . . Tenderly," he added, running his hand slowly down her spine and feeling her shiver herself. "When no one else is around, and we don't have anywhere to be . . ."

"Except together," she continued, and then twisted to look at his face. "Together in your _bed_ , all night . . ."

". . . and part of the next day," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her, finally, on the lips.

It was a kiss like they hadn't shared since soon after the war. More sweetness than passion, innocent, and even a bit tentative. Harry knew he couldn't sweep away everything they had already done together, and truth be told, he didn't really want to. It was part of them, part of the fact that they had each cared so much about the other as an individual that they had lost themselves together. But it had also brought them back to each other, and Harry knew they were stronger than ever. Kissing Ginny there, in his arms, ignoring everything around them, it felt like the first time again. He was even a little nervous, he wanted to do it right. And looking in her eyes, he knew Ginny felt that way too.

"I want," he began. "No. I _need,_ to give you all of myself. Because that's the only way I can feel whole. And, there has been a part of me missing, since we broke up. I did it on purpose, it made sense, at the time. To keep me from thinking too much, or questioning, or missing you." Ginny was looking at him questioningly, as if she realized he was talking about more than how he felt. "But it backfired," he concluded.


	21. It was Always You, Part II

Harry didn't say anything else for a minute, just continued to stroke Ginny's hair and drop light kisses onto her head. He was breathing rather raggedly and Ginny looked up, concerned. "Are you still in pain?"

Harry shook his head. "Not much. I'm just trying to figure out how to explain . . . what I have to explain." Ginny felt him shift below her, and tighten his arms around her waist. She leaned tentatively into his chest, still not sure she wasn't hurting him.

"I have something to tell you too," she said quietly. Now that they were talking honestly and admitting everything they felt, Ginny couldn't stand the thought of keeping her secrets for even a second longer. Still, she wondered how Harry was going to react to her news.

"The night we broke up, I removed a bunch of memories of you and me together," she said in a rush. "To keep it from hurting so much."

Whatever Ginny had imagined Harry's response to be, the snort of laughter he let out at her words had not been among the choices. But laughing he was, squeezing Ginny tightly to his chest and saying in a wheezing voice, "you . . . you took out memories!" before dissolving back into giggles.

"Why is that so funny?" Even though Ginny was relieved that Harry didn't seem upset about what she had done, she didn't understand why he was laughing about it.

Harry took a deep breath. "Sorry," he gasped. "It's just . . . that. . . I did the same thing!" He buried his head in her hair and started shaking, and Ginny knew he was trying to control himself, but it was too late. With a great snort of her own, she began laughing too, the absolute incongruity of the entire situation finally getting to her. _Was it only an hour ago that she nearly hated Harry? Thirty minutes since she'd feared him dead?_ It was almost too much to believe, that everything was suddenly, irrevocably, okay.

"I can't believe it," she finally said weakly, tears still streaming out of her eyes. "We're both such idiots, thinking that would work."

"Yep," said Harry. "Actually, I think it made things worse. At least for me." His voice had grown serious again and Ginny wiped her face and twisted to look up at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, even though she had a pretty good idea what Harry was going to say.

"I think if I hadn't put all those good memories away, it would have been obvious to me a long time ago that I didn't want to be apart from you – that I _couldn't_ be apart from you and be happy."

"And when we came up with that whole 'friends with benefits' thing," said Ginny, picking up the thread of Harry's thoughts, "for a while, the physical relationship masked what I really wanted."

"What _we_ really wanted," Harry corrected softly. "And every time I'd start to feel those desires again, I ignored them, until they got to be too much. And then I pulled out more – just a couple weeks ago." Ginny heard him huff to himself. "What was I thinking?"

"You didn't want to hurt me, just like I didn't want to hurt you, or pressure you, or whatever." Ginny sighed. "What a waste."

Harry chuckled. "You know what we need to do, don't you?"

Ginny nodded into Harry's chest. "Go find our vials. Put the memories back."

"Would you want . . . I mean, we could maybe look at a few, first, if you wanted," said Harry. "Together. I have a Pensieve."

Ginny leaned up and kissed Harry lightly on the lips. "I'd like that."

It took a remarkably short amount of time to leave the scene of the explosion. Harry got checked by a healer who added a few healing spells of her own and then he had a brief conversation with Kingsley. After that, Ginny wrapped her arms around Harry and Apparated then both to her flat. She suspected that Kingsley had run interference for them because even the press stayed away as they walked slowly to the Apparation safe point back in the park across from the remains of the pub.

Her flat was thankfully empty and had a rather deserted feel to it; Leandra's parents had finished packing and Ginny's eyes moved automatically to the bare places on the living room walls where the other Chaser's photos and knick-knacks had been. Shaking her head, Ginny slipped into her room and grabbed the vial of memories off her shelf. She pulled off her now filthy and ripped dress and pulled on a pair of jeans and button down shirt before rejoining Harry in the living room.

This time he wrapped his arms around her before whisking them to his flat, and when they arrived just inside his front door, he didn't immediately let go. A month earlier, Ginny knew, they would probably both have been half naked by now. She stood contentedly inside the circle of Harry's arms instead, feeling the beating of his heart matching hers. She could have stayed there forever. Except . . .

"Harry?" Ginny had just thought of something.

"Hmmm?" his voice matched hers in contentment.

"Is the flat still warded to allow Ron to Apparate directly inside?"

Harry pushed away from her a bit and pulled out his wand. "Not for long," he muttered. "If I remember correctly, he moved out about two hours ago."

Walking into Harry's bedroom, Ginny felt the oddest sense of _déjà vu_. She knew she had been in the room before – it _felt_ familiar - and yet at the same time, everything was different. She looked at Harry.

"When was I here last?" she asked.

Harry's eye wrinkled as he thought. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted. He turned and rummaged through the trunk at the end of his bed – his Hogwarts trunk, Ginny noted with amusement. A second later he stood up clutching a ball of socks and a Pensieve.

"You kept your memories in a ball of socks?" Ginny couldn't keep the laughter out of her voice.

"Hey," Harry responded in a mock indignant tone, "those socks have protected a lot of important things over the years." He dumped the Pensieve on the bed. "So, how do you want to do this? I think it might be easiest if we just dumped all the memories into the bowl and went in after them. That how we review witness statements from a number of people at the same time at work – each thought stays more or less separate in the bowl."

"Okay." Ginny picked up her wand and popped the top off her vial. The thoughts swirled around as she poured them into the bowl and she wondered what exactly she was about to see – it was odd, not being able to remember her own experiences. Harry poured his vial in on top of hers and then held out his hand, giving her a lopsided smile.

"Ready?" he asked.

At first things were confusing as Ginny tried to get her bearings; she had never been in a Pensieve before and for a couple of seconds, images seemed to be assaulting her from all sides. But Harry's hand was tight in hers and after a moment she figured out that what she was seeing – images were passing in front of her as if she was flipping pages in a picture book. The first images were just brief glimpses of times she didn't even realize she had forgotten, of her and Harry doing ordinary things together – but obviously more than friends . . .

"These must be the less specific memories." Harry's voice was low beside her. "We seem to have a lot of the same ones."

It was true – Ginny could tell which of the mixed memories were hers and which were Harry's – the ones she had contributed seemed more obvious to her somehow. But many of the visions were shared, and Ginny was amused to watch them from two perspectives.

 _She and Harry having a snowball fight – she watched herself giggle as she slipped snow down his back and again as he tackled her, laughing, and then leaned in close to her for a kiss . . ._

 _A dinner at the Burrow soon after the war ended. She was leaning sleepily into Harry and he was stroking her hair, both of them looking supremely relaxed. . ._

 _A vision she didn't remember of her flying through the air and scoring a goal – her first Harpies game. Harry hadn't taken his eyes off of her for a second; she might as well have been flying alone, so little did he look at the rest of the game._

 _Harry's face, coming through the portrait hole after they'd won the Quidditch Cup – his delight at hearing they'd won turning to absolute joy and surprise as Ginny threw herself into his arms and his lips met hers._

The next scene slowed down and Ginny was looking at her and Harry walking slowly across the grounds at Hogwarts, only days after that first kiss. Ginny could hear them laughing together and she vaguely remembered that they had finally managed to escape Ron, who had been following them everywhere.

 _". . . not going to be happy when he figures out what you did to his boxers," Harry was laughing._

 _"Serves him right for trying to sit between us at dinner, again," Ginny replied. "It will be great when we're out of school and he's not around every single second. Hopefully he will have realized he's desperately in love with Hermione by then."_

 _"I wouldn't hold my breath," Harry said._

From her position in the Pensieve, Ginny watched memory-Harry's face grow serious and she suddenly remembered the direction their conversation had taken.

 _"Assuming I live long enough to get out of school," Harry's voice was grave as he sat down under a tree and motioned for Ginny to join him._

It was the first time the two of them had talked about the prophecy and their future – and Harry's fear that he didn't have one. Ginny remembered feeling as if things had shifted between them that day – no more were they two friends in the beginnings of a relationship - it went much deeper than that. Even though they hadn't used the words, that was the day . . .

"That's when I knew I loved you." Harry interrupted Ginny's thoughts as clearly as if he had read them.

"Me too," she said, leaning closer into him as the scene faded and the next one came into view.

Next was the first time Harry had told her he loved her – they were both filthy and exhausted in Harry's dormitory right after the Final Battle. Ginny buried her face in Harry's chest as the memory played out; the combination of bliss and shock and heartbreak so evident on their younger faces was too much for her to relive for a moment. Harry stroked her back and after a second, Ginny looked up in time to hear Harry say the words again, both in the Pensieve and next to her.

"I love you, Ginny." But the Pensieve Harry continued. "I don't ever want to be apart from you again."

Ginny turned her back on the Pensieve images and looked up at Harry.

"I love you too. And I know so much better now what exactly that means."

"Right," Harry agreed. "It's okay to be apart sometimes, it's healthy, even. It doesn't mean we don't love each other, that we have our own jobs and other friends. I didn't understand that before."

"Just as long as we're together in our hearts," Ginny agreed. She smirked up at him. "Or whenever one of us feels like a good shag."

They chuckled together and as the scene before them changed, Ginny drew in a breath.

It was another memory that both of them had added. They were standing together in her room at the Burrow, and as Ginny watched, Harry leaned in and began to kiss slowly up her neck, his hands busy at her waist and the buttons to her jeans. It wasn't their first time, Ginny realized, but definitely one of their best. Beside her, she heard Harry's breath hitch in his throat as he realized what he was seeing.

 _They had slipped away at the end of one of the Weasley's big family dinners. The dishes were clean and everyone was starting to pair up with spouses and girlfriends. Ron and Hermione had gone up to the attic and Ginny had drawn Harry into her room, shutting the door and locking and silencing it._

Harry's own hands were moving almost unconsciously at her waist as he watched his memory self slip his hands underneath Ginny's shirt. Ginny shivered as she watched herself push into Harry with a groan, her head falling back as he trailed kisses across her jaw. The couple in front of them fell onto her bed; the memory Ginny's move to shrug out of her jeans and roll on top of Harry was achingly familiar and filled her with the kind of desire she hadn't felt in all their months of recent shagging. They had made love off and on all night, she remembered, and in between they'd talked about everything and nothing before finally falling asleep in each other's arms right before daybreak.

"I think I've seen enough." Harry's voice was ragged in her ear.

"Let's go," Ginny agreed, and taking his hand, the two of them rose out of the Pensieve back into the quiet of Harry's room.

He turned to her, smiling almost shyly as he ran one hand down her cheek and cupped her chin. "Is it okay," he began hesitantly, "if we don't get undressed, right away?" Harry's eyes were wide as they looked at her. "I want to go slowly."

Ginny could only nod. She felt none of the frantic rush that had accompanied their recent couplings. They had certainly been fun – the thrill of getting caught made them both hot – but now all she could think about was what had been missing. Harry was feeling it too, she could tell, and letting him take the lead made her feel like she had felt back at Hogwarts, when they were both a little fumbling and inexperienced.

Taking her hands, Harry led her to his bed and sat her down next to him. For a long moment they just stared at each other, and Ginny realized how little she had actually looked at Harry's face these past months. Gone was the tight jaw and worry lines that Ginny had assumed were a necessary by-product of being an Auror; now she realized that a lot of Harry's stress, like her own, probably had a more personal source. He looked supremely relaxed now, and the spasms of joy that flitted across his face made her suspect he was trying as hard as she was not to just grin outright.

He gave in first, finally smiling widely and pulling her closer to him until his lips were right against her ear.

"I'm going to kiss you for a while. I've really missed kissing you," he said softly, letting his lips brush against her hair.

"Please," was all Ginny could think to say. Harry pushed her gently back until she was laying on the bed and continued to plant tiny featherlight kisses across her jaw, down her neck, and back up to her cheeks and forehead. Ginny felt like she was floating; she closed her eyes and gave into the sensation. When Harry's lips finally met her own, she reached up and grabbed the back of his head, holding him there in place.

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Lying on the bed, kissing Ginny, Harry had to fight the urge to climb up and cover her body completely with his. He'd meant it when he told her wanted to go slow and savor every second, and putting his already rather alert penis any closer to the vicinity of Ginny's body would not be conducive to taking things slowly.

Instead, he brushed the hair back from her face and then ran one hand down her side and up under her shirt. As his fingers grazed her bare stomach, Ginny shivered and Harry couldn't help but tickle her, grinning as she squirmed.

"No fair!" she said breathlessly, swatting his hand away. "You're supposed to be playing nice."

"Oh, I can be very, very nice when I want to be," Harry said. He dipped his head down and began kissing Ginny's stomach. After a moment, she reached down and began unbuttoning her shirt. Harry looked up in time to see Ginny's bare breasts appear in his line of sight and he groaned.

"Merlin, Ginny, don't you ever wear a bra?" His view was not doing anything to help him control things below his waist and he wiggled his growing erection against the mattress to try to get some relief.

Ginny giggled. "I can conjure one up if you really want," she said innocently.

"Don't you dare," Harry growled back. He sat up for a second to pull off his own shirt, trying to subtly adjust himself at the same time. His attempt at subterfuge clearly didn't work, because when he looked back at Ginny, she was smirking.

"Comfortable there, Potter?" she asked.

"I'm getting there, Weasley," he replied easily, leaning over her again. This time Harry allowed himself to lie on top of her, and both of them groaned in relief at the contact and pressure.

"I think . . . I should get back to kissing," Harry muttered. He took one of Ginny's breasts in his mouth and suckled gently. She immediately arched her back and he felt the nipple harden under his tongue.

"Yes . . ." he continued. "Definitely need more kissing."

"Do I get to kiss you back?" asked Ginny. "Not that I think things need to be _even_ , mind you . . . But I really want to kiss you."

Harry pulled himself away from Ginny's breast with the greatest of effort. Wrapping his arms around her back, he rolled them both over until she was on top of him. Her hair was loose and hung over them like a curtain and when she leaned down and flicked her tongue against his lips, Harry felt like he'd come home.

He did his very best to focus on Ginny kissing him and ignore the fact that she was also wiggling her hips lightly against his. But when her hands began moving down his sides and then to the button on his trousers, he gave up the fight completely.

"Can we get naked now?" she asked, just as he said, "gotta take off your jeans."

They laughed together and then Ginny's hands were undoing his pants and pushing them down around his ankles. She stopped short of removing his boxers, and instead sat back on her heels, frankly appraising the bulge in their center.

Harry wriggled under her gaze. He desperately wanted her to touch him, but at the same time, touching would be sure to escalate things quickly. Ginny was still wearing her jeans, and that gave Harry an idea.

"Stand up," he said, motioning with his hand towards the floor.

Ginny looked confused. "Now? Is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "Everything's perfect. Well, almost perfect." He raised his eyebrows at her. "You still have your jeans on."

Ginny looked down. "That I do," she said. "Do you want to take them off?"

"No," said Harry. "I want _you_ to take them off." He looked at her.  
"And I want to watch."

Ginny smiled. Without a word, she stood up in front of him and pushed him back until he was lying against the pillows at the head of his bed. Leaning over, she kissed him gently down his chest, but stopped at his belly button, circling it with her tongue and then standing back up just as Harry was about to thrust upwards.

She smirked and shook her finger at him. "No touching. You wanted to watch, remember?"

Harry swallowed thickly. "Yeah." Although at that moment, he was feeling the desire to just chuck the striptease and pull Ginny's clothes off himself, as quickly as possible. He made a big show of putting his hands behind his head and lying back.

Ginny stretched her arms up over her head and under her hair, flipping it so that it fell around her shoulders. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and took a deep breath.

Harry barely dared to breathe himself. As he watched, Ginny ran her hands lightly down her sides and across her stomach, stroking gently. He bit back a groan.

She moved her hands to her breasts and began kneading them, rolling her nipple around in her fingers.

Harry grabbed himself through the fabric of his boxers.

"Ginny . . ." he moaned. "You're killing me."

"Good," she said. Harry looked at her. Her tone was nonchalant but her face was flushed.

 _This isn't any easier for her, he thought. Hmmm._

Ginny was watching Harry's hand, where it was still laying on top of his boxers. He moved it back and forth slowly, smiling to himself as Ginny's tongue suddenly darted out across her lip. He watched her take a deep, shuddering breath.

"Look at me, Harry," she said in a commanding voice. "None of that. That's _my_ job."

Harry immediately pulled his hand away.

Ginny moved her hands down to the button on her jeans and prized it open, sliding down the zipper. She pushed her hands down inside and fondled herself through her knickers, a small smile on her face.

Harry sat up. _Not playing fair!_ "Hey," he said indignantly. If I can't, you can't."

Ginny gave him a cheeky smile and pulled out her hand. With a deliberate sway of her hips, she turned around and began pushing down her jeans.

 _Merlin, I love Ginny's bum._ Harry wasn't leaning back against the pillows anymore. He was sitting up, on his hands so that they could not grab his erection again, staring at Ginny's gorgeous arse. His penis apparently wanted to watch too, because it strained upward until it peeked out of the top of his boxers, a bead of moisture already forming at the tip.

Ginny wiggled her hips as she stepped out of her jeans and looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked.

Harry nodded dumbly as Ginny put her hands back at her hips, and, in one swift motion, bent over to push her knickers down to her ankles. Stepping nimbly out of them, she finally turned around and looked at him again.

Harry was touched to see the sudden shyness on Ginny's face as she stood naked before him. For all her joking and bravado, she obviously felt as deeply about this night as he did. With a rush of tenderness, he stood up and gathered her in his arms, stepping out of his pants as he did so. Ginny sighed and lay her head on his shoulder while Harry breathed deeply, taking in her scent and the feel of her skin against every part of his. Even the ache in his groin was manageable right now; he controlled the need to thrust against her and instead tickled his hands up and down her back before slowly moving them back to the bed.

Grabbing his wand from the bedside table, Harry lowered the light in the room to a warm glow. Ginny pulled the comforter back and slipped under the sheets, lying on her side and propped up on one elbow.

Harry lay down facing her and pulled the blankets up over them both. He put one hand on her hip and smiled. "So. Here we are. In a bed."

Ginny smiled back at him. "Finally." Then she smirked. "Not that I'm complaining about the loo, and the tree, and the stadium stands . . ."

"Don't forget the massage table or that table in Bristol," Harry reminded her, smirking back. "But, yeah. Beds have a lot of advantages." He scooted closer to her so that their bodies were almost touching. "For example," he said softly, kissing her on the forehead, and then her nose, and then her lips, "there's no chance of getting splinters in your arse, when you're in a bed."

"No chance of hurting your back from being bent over a sink either," said Ginny. She moved her hand down under the sheet to where their bodies were almost connected. "And I can reach all your parts easily, in a bed." Her hand gently stroked Harry's length and he couldn't help but groan.

"Keep doing that please," he said, and a second later, Ginny had gripped him more firmly, first with one hand, then with both. She moved up and down slowly, perfectly matching the rhythm of Harry's soft thrusts. Harry vaguely thought to himself that his own hands should be doing something too, _something to Ginny_ , but his arms felt leaden at his sides and all his concentration was focused between his legs. Ginny moved one hand to stroke his sac and the shudder of pleasure Harry felt was strong enough to jolt him back to his senses.

 _Don't wanna come like this_. "Ginny," he groaned. He forced his heavy hands to move onto her hip and was immediately glad for it. She was warm and smooth and soft and every part of her body was his right now.

A thought popped unbidden into his brain and before he could even stop to consider it, Harry blurted it out, "We should always be completely naked when we have sex. From now on."

Next to him, Ginny chuckled. "That will certainly make things more complicated, sometimes. Like if we ever want to have sex again in a loo. Or my parents' garden, for that matter." She raised her eyebrows. "Unless you want to give all that up and just stick to beds from now on?"

"No." Harry spoke quickly. "Definitely not. It's just . . . well . . . sex in a bed is like . . ." he struggled to think of a comparison. "It's like a really good dinner that your mum cooked."

Next to him, Ginny groaned. "Did you have to bring my mum into it? While we're lying here naked?"

Harry leaned over and gave her a kiss. "Give me a second, I think I'm on to something here. Where was I? Oh yeah. Sex is like your mum's cooking. Shepherd's pie, or maybe that stew that Ron is always begging her to make."

"Let me guess," said Ginny in a teasing voice. "Next you're going to start talking about the twins and kill my libido entirely."

In response, Harry moved closer to her so that his erection pressed into her belly. Scooting down lower, he was able to position the tip of his penis right at Ginny's clitoris. He gave a tiny thrust against it, then another, and smirked when she shivered and closed her eyes, her own body involuntarily thrusting back.

"That's what I thought," said Harry. "It'll take more than mention of your family to cool you off."

"Guh huh," Ginny mumbled next to him. He could feel her body trembling with his nearness and suddenly Harry very much wanted to finish this discussion.

"Right. Anyway. If sex in a bed is like a great dinner, sex in an odd location is like a really rich, special dessert. It's wonderful once in a while, but you don't want to eat it every night, especially without a good dinner to balance things out."

Ginny was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she looked up at him. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I'd like to have at least two dinners tonight, if that's okay with you. Dessert can wait until later in the week."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny grinned at Harry's expression as soon as she made the comment about having multiple dinners. He wiggled closer to her and wrapped his arms around her back and she put her lips to his shoulder and pressed an open mouth kiss there. After a second, Harry put both hands on her bum and pulled her flush against him.

Ginny felt Harry's erection pulsing against her skin. She moved her hand between them to caress his penis again, but Harry stopped her.

"I won't last if you . . ." he began. He moved his own hand to her curls. "Let me." His fingers deftly found her clit and began swirling around, making her writhe with pleasure. She rolled onto her back and opened her legs, adding her own hand to Harry's; she remembered how much it turned him on to have her "help."

Indeed, Harry groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder. "Oh god, Ginny, you're making me crazy."

"Good," she panted. Harry had slipped two fingers into her opening and Ginny felt her first orgasm building in her back. "Harry," she gasped.

He was concentrating, a tiny wrinkle furrowed at his brow as he worked to get her over the edge. "Hmmm?"

"I want to come with you inside me," she said. Ginny couldn't help but arch her back as Harry added pressure with his other hand from above. "Please, Harry."

He stopped then, slowly pulling out his fingers, which helped Ginny back away from her climax. Taking a deep breath, he nodded to her.

"Right." He gave her a sheepish smile. "But I'm not going to last long."

He moved himself up, continuing to tease her with the head of his penis as he positioned himself above her. As he watched, Ginny bit her lip and gave a tiny thrust upward. Harry raised his own hips at the last second in a weak attempt to regain some control. In response, Ginny moved both hands to Harry's bum and stroked lightly. He tensed, prepared for her to push him down into her, but she refused, giving him a cocky smile.

Harry groaned and closed his eyes. "That's not helping, Ginny," he panted. Then he opened his eyes. "Well, yes, actually it's helping quite a bit." He lowered himself to his forearms and rested his hands lightly on Ginny's shoulders.

 _Just stick it in Harry._

He wasn't sure if the words were in his head or came from Ginny. He wholehardedly agreed either way. Rearing back, he moved until the head of his penis poked lightly against the opening to Ginny's vagina. _Tap._ He pulled back.

 _Just do it._

Ginny's eyes were closed in anticipation, her entire body quivering. Harry couldn't resist lowering his head for one more soft kiss even as the tip of his penis sought further entrance. He kissed her again and felt Ginny's tongue brush against his. She opened her eyes.

"Now, Harry. I need you. _Now_." Ginny's voice was intense. She grabbed his bum more tightly and pushed him against her.

Harry felt her legs open up to cradle his hips and he gave in completely. With a soft grunt of relief, he pushed himself completely into her.

"Yesss," he hissed just as Ginny made a noise that had no words to it but was full of relief of her own. Wiggling around a bit, Harry pushed harder against her and then stilled, enjoying the feeling of being completely enclosed.

This was what he'd been missing – even with the memories removed, he'd known it was gone. There was a quiet connection between them right now that filled him with such a sense of peace he couldn't help but wrap his arms around Ginny just a little more tightly.

"Never again," he said against her hair, voicing only part of his thoughts. He'd meant that he would never do anything again to damage _them_ – he couldn't even if he wanted to. Ginny somehow understood his garbled mumbling and squeezed her arms around him just as firmly.

"We'll never be that stupid again," she agreed quietly before lifting her hips and rocking. A second later she froze in place. "Just . . . stay right _there_ , Harry," she panted quietly. Her hand snaked down between them and met his where it had already found her clitoris. Together they rubbed it slowly and Harry felt the urge to thrust building quickly.

"Give me something to think about," he said quickly. "Anything."

Ginny wiggled beneath him. "You mean, like how good it feels to be inside me, and how hot and wet and tight I am, right now?" Ginny's voice had a devlish ring to it as she pulled away and then thrust herself back up around him.

"No!" the word exploded out of Harry. _Yes, exactly that, keep going_.

"Something not . . . about sex . . ." he managed. "Something to make me . . . last." _Good luck with that, Potter._ His orgasm was building already and he tensed his legs and ground his feet into the mattress in an attempt to stop himself from rubbing against Ginny.

"Ahh." Ginny's voice was amused. Harry bit the inside of his lip.

"Should I talk about my mum and brothers some more? Maybe throw in my dad for good measure?" Ginny's voice wavered at the end and when Harry looked down at her, all thoughts of the extended Weasley family went right out of his head. There was no room for them at all, not when one Weasley – the most important one, as far as he was concerned right then – was laying beneath him with her brown eyes wide and unfocused, making soft mewling pants of pleasure that drowned out every other sound in the room.

Truly, Ron and the twins could have burst through the door right then and Harry wouldn't have noticed. All that mattered was the fact that Harry could no longer control his urge to _thrust,_ and thrust _hard_ , and that he wanted to make sure that wherever he was about to go, he brought Ginny along with him too.

"Harder Harry." Ginny's voice was urgent and her own movements were becoming wilder. Harry pulled almost completely out and then dropped himself back in. _Hard_. He moved faster, in and out, trying to concentrate on every sensation – the feel of the skin of his penis sliding past Ginny's warmth, the _slap slap_ sound their bodies made as they connected, the musky scent that rose up between them . . .

 _Oh. My. God._

Ginny had moved one of her hands out from between their bodies and snaked it around Harry's clenched bum, back between his legs. From there she could reach his sac and the base of his penis from an entirely new angle, and she flicked lightly and rubbed her fingers back and forth over his most sensitive bits.

Harry came completely undone.

He couldn't help but increase his movements, erratic as they were. His hand slid off her clit, but by the way Ginny shuddered and moaned beneath him, Harry knew that the pressure from his shaft had replaced it more than adequately. She was pushing herself against him with a new intensity, lifting her legs and wrapping them around his back as if to lock him into place on top of her.

 _As if he'd want to be anywhere else._

With a final thrusting moan, Harry came, almost immediately feeling Ginny's legs clench around him in the rhythmic thrusts of her own climax. He collapsed on top of her, not even bothering to withdraw first, feeling the sweat slick skin of his own body merge with hers.

For a long minute, neither of them moved.


	22. Burrow Dinner

**A/N: While cleaning up my writing files, I realized that I had never uploaded the final three chapters of Emergency, so here they are. The last chapter is really an outtake. Enjoy!**

Harry and Ginny had "dinner" not twice, but three times before they finally left the flat the next afternoon in favor of a trip to the Burrow for, well, _dinner._

Mrs. Weasley had really outdone herself this time. Harry suspected that loved ones' near misses with death brought out her need to cook even more; at least, he hoped that was the reason for the mountain of food she had spread out in the Burrow's kitchen. He didn't want to think what she'd prepare when she learned that Harry and Ginny were officially together again.

And she was sure to learn the news soon. Already, Harry could see identical looks of devious glee in the eyes of Fred and George as they whispered into each other's ears, giving Harry and Ginny snide glances across from across the room.

"Can you think of a spell that will seal your brothers' mouths shut and yet still allow them to eat and breathe?" he whispered to Ginny. "Or maybe we can charm them to forget everything they've seen in the past 24 hours."

"Good luck with that," Ginny whispered back. "The problem with trying to get the twins is that one of them is always on the lookout, protecting the other. No one's been able to hex them properly in years."

Harry sighed and turned towards Ron, who was standing with his arm around Hermione, nodding every once in a while as she prattled on. Wedding talk, no doubt. _Maybe the best defense is a good offense._

"Hey Ron," Harry spoke loudly over the din of the kitchen. "Did you get all your things moved into Hermione's flat okay?" Harry suspected that Ron might have neglected to inform his parents of his new living arrangements; feeling that was confirmed by the way Ron's ears turned red and Molly's mouth opened in surprise.

"Really, Ronald?" Molly didn't look _angry_ at the news – having raised seven children who were now at adulthood, she had a certain understanding about _how these things worked_. But still, Harry knew she wasn't going to let her youngest son off scot free.

"I didn't realize your living arrangements were going to be changing so soon," she commented idly, turning back to the pan of rolls she was moving to a serving basket with her wand. "Before the wedding, I mean." She didn't say anything else and the silence in the kitchen got thick, punctuated only by occasional snorts from the direction of Fred and George.

Hermione peeked out from under Ron's arm to glare at Harry, who gave her a "better you than me" kind of shrug before clearing his throat. "Yeah, Ron. I would have been perfectly happy to have to live with me up until the wedding. " He gave his best friend a cheeky grin. "Especially since you don't spend too many nights at the flat as it is."

Ron finally found his voice. "I've been nothing but helpful to you in the past weeks," he said plaintively. "With, _you know_." He gestured vaguely in the direction of Ginny and Harry was impressed with his best mate's apparent desire to let Harry and Ginny do their own news-telling. Harry felt just a tad guilty – Hermione was obviously a good influence on Ron and Harry had just thrown him to the dragons.

"Help with what?" Molly asked, now putting a tray of tarts in the oven.

 _Not that guilty._

"With keeping the flat clean," said Harry quickly. "You know, since he's not there much." Across the room he saw Ginny biting the inside of her cheek in an effort not to laugh.

Molly finally turned around, a slight frown on her face. She gave Harry a tender look. "I hope Ron's eagerness to . . . be with Hermione hasn't left you too lonely, Harry dear. Have you been just burying yourself in work?"

 _Oh, sweet Merlin_

The explosive snorts of laughter came from at least three different spots around the kitchen. Even Ginny, bright red in the face, was holding her side and trying not to giggle too loudly.

"I wouldn't say he's been burying himself _in his work_ , Mum," George finally managed, wiping his eyes.

"But, " added Fred, "he _has_ been burying himself in . . . Ginny – is something wrong?"

Harry groaned to himself. He was in for it now.

"Nothing's wrong," said Ginny firmly. "I'm just hungry."

"Harry?" asked George innocently. "Are _you_ hungry? I'm sure you could _go down_ with Ginny to the garden for some berries or something if you can't wait for dinner. Or do you need to go to the loo first?"

The snort this time came from the direction of Ron. Apparently he'd decided that if Harry was going to hang him out to dry, Ron no longer owed him anything. But he was also bright red as he whispered in Hermione's ear, no doubt giving her the highlights of Harry and Ginny's fight the night before.

Hermione first raised her eyebrows in Harry's direction, and then, as Ron continued to whisper, actually flushed as she looked at Ginny and then Harry.

 _In front of a Harpies trainer?_ She mouthed silently at them. Harry suspected she was torn between the desire to lecture them for their indiscretion and drag her fiancée up to his room to try to recreate the scene.

"She left first," Harry whispered back indignantly.

"But just barely," muttered Ginny, who had moved closer . So close that he couldn't help but reach out and pull her to him, wrapping one arm firmly around her waist. She gave him a quizzical look in return and he shrugged. The cat was surely among the pixies now, might as well get it all over with at once.

It didn't take long. Mrs. Weasley turned towards the room holding a bowl of strawberries and saw them. Ginny shuffled even closer so that she could lean her head on Harry's shoulder and snake one arm across his body.

Molly froze for a millisecond and then the tiniest of smiles flitted across her face before she bustled over to the table and put down the bowl of berries.

 _About bloody time_. Harry could have sworn he heard her mutter under her breath as she waved her wand to arrange the dishes on the table to make more room.

Harry relaxed. That was it, then, and easier than he'd suspected. He gave Ginny a grin and kissed her on the forehead, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Months, even.

He gave a cocky grin at the twins, who seemed only mildly put out by the fact that their mother had not shown a bigger reaction to the news about Harry and Ginny. Indeed, had Harry been paying more attention, he probably would have been rather nervous about the looks on both their faces. But then Mr. Weasley came in with Bill and Fleur and Percy and things got even louder as everyone jockeyed for position around the groaning table.

Harry held on to Ginny until he was certain they could find seats next to each other. Briefly he was reminded of the last time he'd eaten at the Burrow. _Had he really banished Ginny's knickers in front of her entire family? Had she really flashed her breasts?_

Their convoluted _rules_ had certainly led them to take risks he doubted they would have otherwise. Suddenly it was perfectly clear. "We were trying to find some emotion without actually showing, _emotion_ ," he whispered in Ginny's ear.

Again, she understood his half-spoken thought perfectly. "It made us rather daring, didn't it?" she replied. She knocked her hip into his before she sat down. "I promise to keep my shirt on this time."

"And I promise to keep your knickers on," Harry replied. "On you, I mean. Not me. I don't want to wear your knickers," he babbled while Ginny giggled.

"Just sit down, Harry," she laughed.

Smiling sheepishly, Harry took his seat. Arthur looked over at him. "So, Harry," he began. The entire table got quiet and Harry braced himself for a barrage of questions about him and Ginny.

Beside him, Ginny squeezed his thigh reassuringly.

"Yes, sir?" Harry looked the man directly in the eye. He'd always had a good relationship with Arthur, and had never more appreciated the man's thoughtful and restrained personality than when he and Ginny had broken up. While Molly and most of Ginny's brothers (not to mention Hermione and Fluer) had expressed varying degrees of loud dismay and shock at the news (Harry had stopped counting the number of times Ron had asked him if he was mental after a dozen), Mr. Weasley had kept quiet. He had not altered his previous warmth and friendliness towards Harry, who was reassured that Ginny's father had not held him solely responsible for the break up or for breaking his daughter's heart, or any other such fatherly emotions. As far as Harry knew, Arthur had remained neutral on the entire issue, other than to express his recent gratitude that he'd been able to offer Ginny protection. But that seemed about to change.

 _At least now I can give him the good news about us_

"I understand you had a discussion with Kingsley yesterday, Harry. He said that you could tell us what the Aurors have learned about who's been behind the attacks."

Harry relaxed and his appreciation for Arthur grew that much more. _Of course. He wants to talk about work._ Then the man's eyes twinkled.

"It's good to know how strong the wards are at your flat, Harry. Kingsley mentioned that he had a hell of a time even getting his Patronus through. Seemed to think you might have been busy with _other things_ yesterday."

"No shit," the twins both muttered in tandem. Fred looked seriously at Harry.

"What did you do, Harry? Wrap the entire flat in chains to keep him out? Or is that more of a technique to let someone . . . in?"

George and Ron started snickering into their hands; even Hermione let out a rather unladylike snort or two. Next to him, Ginny groaned quietly. Harry ignored all of them.

"Important things sir," said Harry firmly. He was _not_ going to get embarrassed. "Seems that the group behind the problems with the Quidditch actually included the owner of the Eagles – he was killed in the explosion along with Gavin Sykes and two others."

Ginny took her head out of her hands and leaned forward. "Can you believe they would actually set up an entire sham Quidditch team as a front?"

"Did they figure out what activities they were involved in?" Now Ron looked interested and Harry grinned to himself. _Take that, Fred and George._

He nodded. "Illegal potions to enhance performance, for one," he said. "Alicia Spinnet-Wood had been given one without her knowing it when she joined the team. That's why she played so well against the Harpies."

"And why she wouldn't speak to me either," added Ginny. "The potion messes with your personality too. Kingsley said Oliver almost went spare when he found out – he'd been fighting against Alicia's trade from the start, but the Eagles had offered her former team so much money that Oliver and Alicia's wishes were overruled."

"Is she going to be okay?" Now even Fred and George looked worried. Alicia had been a favorite teammate of theirs.

Harry nodded. "Luckily, yes. The potion Alicia took was one of the less potent ones, believe it or not. Some of those exploding boxes the trainers were receiving held things that were far worse."

"You mean," said Fred, a look of glee suddenly returning to his face, "like some of those massage oils to help loosen tight muscles and things?"

"Yes, just like that," said Harry slowly.

"That must have been nerve-wracking for the trainers, not knowing if the balms and things they were using on players' sore muscles might actually be dangerous poisons," put in George. "As an Auror, Harry, what did you do to make sure that none of the lotions were tainted?" George's face was a mask of innocence but his lower lip was twitching.

"Uhh, we had a meeting where the correct potions were all poured out for our review of their appearance and smell and feel," Harry said.

"Is that all?" interjected Fred.

"Well, there were field investigations too," Harry mumbled under his breath. He'd just remembered that George's wife Angelina was best friends with Amanda, the Harpies trainer that had witnessed a bit too much of Harry's _field investigation_ of Ginny on the massage table.

"What was that?" asked George? "Field investigations? What types of field investigations? I mean, wouldn't there be a concern that the lotions might feel different when actually applied to a player's skin than they do out of the bottle? How did you account for that?"

Harry could see that Ginny was fingering her wand under the table and he was more than willing to let her hex her brothers, but before she could move, Mr. Weasley broke in, an interested look on his face.

"That's a good question, Harry. How _did_ you learn to tell the safe potions from the tainted ones? I don't like the idea that Ginny might have had anything dangerous rubbed on her body."

This time, Harry seriously considered shooting a _Reducto_ at the floor and crawling into the resulting hole to hide – preferably until sometime the following week. Instead he just laid his head on the table and tried to ignore the hysterical laughter that rose around him amid Arthur's confused question about what was so funny. Ginny patted his head in a reassuring manner, but the arm that was brushed up against his side was shaking and when Harry looked up, he could see his girlfriend had tears running down her cheeks, she was laughing so hard.

"I'm sorry, Harry," George finally gasped, wiping his eyes. "We really hope our joking didn't _rub_ you the wrong way."

The room exploded again. Harry thought he could even hear Mrs. Weasley's voice among the chuckles and he mentally ran through the steps needed to perform a mild _Confundus_ charm on Ginny's parents. _Anything to keep them from remembering this conversation correctly._

When it was finally quiet, Mr. Weasley took up the original thread of his questioning.

"So the entire Eagles operation was set up for the sole purpose of importing dangerous potions?"

"Well," said Harry, lifting his head cautiously off the table now that the conversation had returned to a – hopefully – safe topic, "there is a lot of money to be had, trafficking in potions that enhance sports performance. But that's apparently not all the group had planned."

"Who were they, anyway?" Molly interrupted. "Dark wizards?"

"Not Dark in the manner of Voldemort," replied Harry. He was pleased to see that no one at the table even shivered at the name. "Although some of them may have been on the fringe of the Death Eaters at one time. These men were much more interested in money than in power – they weren't all British either. Kingsley found out that they were part of a bigger group that originated in Italy that was involved in fixing Quidditch matches – and then gambling on the results."

"Results which were made more certain through the use of the tainted potions," added Ginny. Harry had not even tried to keep his conversation with Kingsley the previous day private from her; they'd actually sat together in front of the floo, snuggled in a blanket while Harry spoke to his boss. Kingsley had raised his eyebrows, smirked, and then not said a word about it.

"And what's his name – you know, the Auror who got killed, he was in on it too?" asked Hermione.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. The fact that Gavin Sykes had not been at all what he seemed to be – and also that he was pretty much directly responsible for Leandra's death – still pained him.

"I can't believe we didn't see it," he mumbled. He looked up at the collective faces. "Gavin was a plant in the Auror corps from the start. He was lucky to apply when the Aurors were desperate to increase their numbers, and a lot of the usual background preliminaries were eased; he never would have passed the Veritaserum tests they use now."

He grew quiet; he really didn't want to tell them the rest. Ginny put her hand in his and whispered in his ear: "they'll understand. It won't make them think any differently about you – about us."

Harry nodded automatically. It still made him sick to think about how close Ginny had come to getting killed, and after learning what he had the previous day, he wasn't sure that all the smiling faces staring at him were going to be quite so happy that he and Ginny were back together.

"Gavin's purpose . . . I mean, the reason he was in the Aurors – it was because of me," Harry finally said heavily. "He was supposed to be keeping me distracted . . . by keeping Ginny in constant danger."

He stared down at the table as he spoke, but he could feel the silence and weight of nine pairs of horrified eyes boring into his head.

It had been bothering him since yesterday, ever since Kingsley had told him what one of the surviving suspects had revealed.

"What do you mean?" Bill's voice was quiet, and no one else spoke, waiting.

HPHPHPHPHPHP

Ginny watched as Harry expression grew more tortured. Even though she'd spent an hour yesterday reassuring him, she knew he hadn't completely heard her. That he cared almost as much about what her family thought of him as Ginny did was one of Harry's many endearing qualities, but it sometimes meant that he worried needlessly about upsetting them. Like right now, for instance. She was sure he was half expecting one of them to jump up and pull her and Harry apart, yelling that they couldn't see each other anymore.

Harry was still looking down at the table. Ginny rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand and kept quiet. He had to tell them himself – and hear their response – without her commentary.

Bill spoke again, gently. "Harry?" Ginny flashed her oldest brother a smile. He understood.

Harry nodded to himself. "Right. Yes," he said. He finally looked up, and Ginny saw him catch the eye of each of her brothers in turn, then her parents. He took a deep breath.

"The 'mob' as Kingsley began to call them was in the process of planting their own trainers on all the teams who could control the use and distribution of the tainted potions – apparently they had some that decreased performance as well."

 _"Did Ginny get any . . ." Percy began sharply, and Ginny wanted to smack him. He could see she was fine – couldn't he just keep his mouth shut and let Harry talk?_

But Harry was just shaking his head. "No one did, fortunately. They were still trying to get raw ingredients into the country without killing everyone who handled the packages. The plan was to hurt, but not kill some of the trainers and replace the injured men and women with their own."

"And what about the exploding pubs?" broke in Hermione.

"Well, they couldn't get enough product into the country just by sending it to the teams; it was much easier to use pubs as drop points – and threaten or bribe the owners into accepting shipments. When the owner of the Cloak and Dagger decided he wanted more money for his troubles, the mob took care of the pub – in its own way."

"And Ginny?" asked Ron.

Harry glanced at Ginny, who was relieved to see he looked more at ease. He'd gone nearly mental the night before when Kingsley had told him the full extent of Gavin's "duties". For a few moments, Ginny had suspected that if the man was not already dead, Harry might have gone after him himself.

He smiled sheepishly around the table. "It seems I have a reputation as something of a workaholic," he began. He held up his hands in surrender as everyone at the table chuckled at the obvious truth of the statement.

"Whatever gave them that idea, mate?" asked George.

"Surely not the fact that you were known to sleep at your office during important cases," said Fred.

"Or forget to eat unless someone brought you food directly," added Molly.

"Or took over shifts for other Aurors so that they could be with their families," finished Arthur. He looked at Harry. "I heard things about how hard you work, young man."

Harry shrugged. "Keeping busy was the best way to . . .never mind. Let's just all agree that I had my priorities somewhat backwards, okay?" He squeezed Ginny's hand and took a deep breath.

"Anyway," he continued, "the mob figured that I was the Auror most likely to catch on to what they were doing. They wanted to operate under cover for as long as possible – until their network was well established, so they created a diversion – something to keep my mind focused elsewhere."

"A diversion, hmmm," said Fred thoughtfully. "So that's what they're calling it these days."

"Shut up, Fred," said Ginny genially. He saluted her and closed his mouth.

"Yes, well, that was their plan," said Harry. "They figured that if Ginny and the Harpies were in some sort of constant danger, I'd be distracted enough to focus on her and not what was going on." He ran his fingers through his hair and Ginny knew he was getting to the part he hated the most.

"The plan . . ." he began heavily. "The plan was that it was okay for Ginny to be hurt, as long as she wasn't seriously injured or killed – nothing to make me drop everything to find out who was responsible. Gavin's job was to keep tabs on Ginny – to make sure that she wasn't around whenever something really dangerous was planned to occur." He sighed and lifted the hand that was still entwined with Ginny's to his lips so that he could kiss her fingers. He looked at her in the eyes as he told the next part.

"But Gavin's orders only applied to Ginny. Anyone else was just considered collateral damage to them." He said this last bitterly, and from the quiet around the table, Ginny knew they were all thinking about Leandra.

Ginny looked at Harry. His face had grown serious again as he waited for some reaction from her family.

Ron broke the silence. "So let me get this straight," he said. "You and Ginny broke up almost a year ago, right?"

Harry looked confused. "Right," he agreed hesitantly.

"And you've both been telling everyone that it was the right thing to do and that you're just good friends, right?"

"Right," responded Harry.

"And yet," continued Ron, "this mob or whatever it is decided that the best way to keep you distracted was to constantly put your ex-girlfriend in danger – and they were right, weren't they? You worked as hard as ever, but you wanted to be with the Harpies, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," began Harry, "but I didn't slack . . ."

"Oh, no one's accusing you of slacking off," interrupted Ron, a look of glee now on his face. "I'm just trying to understand how a bunch of greedy, dangerous, mob-type wizards were able to figure out so easily what you and Ginny have been denying for a year – you two are in love with each other, mate." He sat back, looking quite pleased with himself while Fred and George gave him high fives.

Harry's mouth opened and then closed. "Well, yes, I am in love with Ginny," he finally said. "I told her that last night. But . . . I didn't . . . I mean, I would have done that for any of you."

"But it's different." Fleur was the one who spoke now, looking earnestly at Harry. "When you love someone, you can't 'elp but act differently, non?"

"And I'm not saying you would have ignored the rest of us, you prat," said Ron, who leaned across the table and cuffed him. "It's just, I dunno. Different. When it's the person you love. " Ron gave Hermione a grin and then leaned over and kissed her.

Harry grinned. "I never thought I'd be taking relationship advice from Ron Weasley," he said. "What has this world come to?"

"Well," said Molly briskly, "If it's come to a place where Harry and Ginny are back together, then I'm glad to be here."

Everyone laughed again and Harry gave Ginny a truly happy and relaxed smile. Then he leaned over and whispered low in her ear. "Do you think maybe after dinner your mum might need us to go pick some berries? You know, for a special dessert?"


	23. And the End

It was one of the happiest dinners Harry ever remembered having. Halfway through the meal, Bill disappeared for several minutes before returning with several bottles of expensive Firewhisky and after that, the party got decidedly more festive.

While George and Fred got most of the table involved in a complicated drinking game whose primary purpose seemed to be to get everyone drunk in as short of an amount of time as possible, Harry held back, taking sips instead of gulps and banishing the liquid in his glass whenever no one was looking. Next to him, Ginny quietly transfigured her whisky into water after two glasses and the two of them giggled to each other as everyone else got more and more pissed.

Finally, when other family members began stumbling into the sitting room for what Fred promised was "an even better part two of the game", Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and the two of them slipped outside into the cool night air.

The quiet dark closed around them quickly, safe and private after the loud raucousness of the Burrow's kitchen.

"I think we're headed for a repeat of the last big family dinner at the Burrow," Harry commented as they walked towards the orchard. Ginny's fingers had intertwined with his so naturally he could barely recall that they hadn't walked this way in months.

"Then we're going the wrong direction, the garden is behind us," commented Ginny dryly. Harry could just see the smirk on her face in the moonlight.

"D'you want to . . .?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. Do you?" asked Ginny.

"Not really, not right now," said Harry honestly. Strangely, it felt incredibly good to _not_ want to shag Ginny right now. "Let's just walk," he said.

"Good," said Ginny. She squeezed his hand and he could hear the smile in her voice.

As they walked through the orchard a few clouds parted and the moon came out, bathing the trees in a pale glow. From behind them there was a pop and then a loud whistling sound. A second later, the green glow of fireworks exploded over the Burrow, spelling out the words "You Lose" in big letters.

Harry looked at Ginny, eyebrows raised. "I don't even want to know," he said.

"I think ignorance is bliss," Ginny agreed. "But we should probably avoid going back for a while."

Harry was so relaxed, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to do. Walking with Ginny was just lovely, and he assumed she was just as content as he was, if the happy sighs she kept making were any indication., which was why he was rather surprised when she suddenly slipped her hand out of his and bounded away.

"Ginny?" Harry was confused. The moon was hidden in the clouds again and it was very dark in the trees. "Where'd you go?"

The only answer was the thunk of something hitting him on the top of the head. "Ow!" he said, rubbing his hair. "Where are you?"

The next missile plopped onto his shoulder and when he looked up at the giggle that came from almost directly above him, he tripped over a tree root and fell into a muddy patch of earth. "Oof," he said, simultaneously rubbing his shin and the elbow he'd landed on.

"Harry?" Ginny's worried voice floated over him and he heard a heavy thunk. "Lumos," she said, and then she was there looking down at him, her face a mixture of concern and guilt.

"I was hiding in the treehouse," she said in a small voice. "I . . . I thought it would be . . . funny. And that maybe you'd want to climb up too?"

"Humph," said Harry, feigning anger. "I'd have thought you'd have learned by now that trees and I don't exactly mix." He paused. "Let me amend that. Trees and I don't mix when I'm actually up in them."

"Maybe it's only when you end up in one on accident," said Ginny. "It might be an entirely different experience if you climbed one on purpose."

Harry looked up into the branches, barely visible in the faint moonlight. "No, I don't think so," he said. "I mean, I was firmly on the ground and I still ended up falling into the mud."

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Ginny with a touch of sheepishness. "I guess it was one of those ideas that was better in my head than when I actually tried it." She brushed her hand across Harry's front. "Are you really hurt?"

The feel of Ginny's hand on his chest was awfully nice. "No, not that bad," Harry admitted. "Still, you certainly managed to get me all dirty." He grabbed Ginny around the waist and hooked one foot around her ankle until she tripped, both of them falling back onto the ground together. They rolled around together for a minute, kissing and tickling and laughing.

"Harry!" protested Ginny, laughing. "I have mud in my hair now."

"So do I," said Harry, kissing her soundly.

Another burst of fireworks interrupted their snogging. "What a wanker!" this display proclaimed.

"Not anymore, I'm not," said Harry dryly, as they watched the sparklers fade away into the night. He was lying in a pile of damp leaves, Ginny on top of him, and it suddenly occurred to him that they really had no reason to sneak around anymore. Not that shagging in odd places was so bad, some of the time, but the ground was rather cold and wet, and there was at least one stone digging into his arse, making the entire experience less than wonderful.

"Do you think your family is drunk enough for us to go back to your room?" he asked.

"Let's hope so," Ginny muttered, climbing off Harry and standing up. "Because I'm freezing out here."

Whatever game Fred and George had invented seemed to still be in full swing when Harry and Ginny crept cautiously back into the Burrow's kitchen. The table was clearing itself – slowly – and raucous laughter could be heard from the living room.

Ginny put her fingers to her lips. "Quick," she whispered, pulling Harry towards the staircase.

Once they got to Ginny's room and shut and locked the door and set silencing charms, Harry relaxed and grinned, taking his girlfriend in his arms.

"Much better," he muttered, kicking off his shoes and shuffling with her towards her bed.

"Ugh, Harry, we're covered in mud," said Ginny, wiggling out of his grasp.

Harry looked down at where the two of their bodies met. There did seem to be an awful lot of dirt, and leaves, and even an errant twig or two.

"Are you a witch or what?" he said. "Scourgify it."

"There's no way I can get rid of all this mess," said Ginny. She gave him a look. "Can you?"

"No," Harry admitted. "I'm rubbish at most cleaning spells."

Ginny was quiet; she seemed to be listening to the noise downstairs. After a minute, she nodded to herself.

"Shower," she said.

"What?" asked Harry.

"We need to take a shower," said Ginny. "Before they figure out we're up here."

"Together?" asked Harry? The idea was both arousing and slightly worrisome. It was one thing to shag Ginny in the garden after getting thoroughly pissed – particularly when their entire relationship had been based on sex – but quite another to take a shower together in her parents' home completely sober.

"We don't . . . have to," began Harry. If he admitted it to himself, he really, really wanted to, all of a sudden.

"I know," answered Ginny. "But do you want to?"

Harry barely paused a second. "Hell, yes," he replied.

One minute later they were in the Burrow's sole bathroom.

They looked at each other for a minute, expressions of identical glee crossing their faces.

"Ummm, dessert time, I guess," said Harry.

Ginny was already busy pulling his shirt out of the waist of his trousers and over his head. "Yeah," she muttered, now working on his zipper.

Harry reached for her, running his own hands up underneath her shirt to the bottom of her breasts. Ginny shuddered and finished with his fly; his trousers fell down around his ankles and he stepped neatly out of them and then pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck.

Ginny relaxed into him and they swayed together for a minute. Harry's erection grew against Ginny's leg as he worked at the back of her bra, struggling to unhook it.

He was rather proud of himself that he got it undone before she had to help. She pulled her jumper over her head and Harry pulled the rest of her bra away.

"You really are dirty," he commented. Ginny had somehow managed to get a streak of dirt down her chest, in between her breasts. His own neck and shoulders felt tight with dried mud and he quickly wiggled out of his shirt and boxers to stand naked in front of her.

Ginny grabbed his erection with one hand. "I think this is the only clean part of your body," she said. She reached past him into the shower and turned on the water.

"Are you sure?" he said playfully. "It looks like it might need some cleaning to me."

Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled Harry into the shower. "Help me with the mud, Harry," she said.

He was glad to oblige. Picking up the bar of soap, Harry lathered up his hands and then slowly rubbed them across Ginny's breasts. He was trying – more or less – to wipe away the mud, but the way her nipples hardened beneath his fingers was much more satisfying than noticing whether she actually was getting clean.

"Give me the soap," she said. A second later she was sliding her own slippery hands up and down Harry's chest, down his stomach, and to his penis. He shivered and stepped closer to her so that they were both under the warm spray. Ginny tipped her head back to let the water course down her chest. From that angle, Harry couldn't help but lean down and kiss her neck, pressing into her until her back was against the tiles of the shower.

"I love showers," he said happily. He picked up a bottle of shampoo and squeezed some into his palm. "Can I wash your hair?" He asked.

Ginny nodded. She was still leaning against the back of the shower and her eyes were closed. Harry rubbed the shampoo through her hair gently until it was full of white lather. There was enough to attend to himself as well and he gave his head a few rather ineffectual swipes before moving both hands back to Ginny's waist. She tipped her head back again to let the shampoo run down her back and on impulse, Harry suddenly knelt in front of her. He was close enough that the water from the shower head sprayed his own back and flecks of water bounced off Ginny's shoulders and breasts and hit him in the face. He rested his head against her stomach, kissing it lightly. Ginny shivered and shuffled her feet wider apart.

Harry backed up so that he could see better and moved his hand down Ginny's stomach and across one thigh. His hand was still rather soapy and he contemplated cleaning Ginny in some more interesting places, but stopped suddenly.

Ginny looked down when Harry pulled his hand away. "What's wrong?"

Harry tried to look up but the water from the shower kept getting in his eyes. He spoke to Ginny's belly button instead when he answered her. "I don't like the taste of soap."

"So?" Ginny began, and then understood what he was saying. "Ohhhh." She shrugged. "So don't wash it then. I don't think I got any mud down my pants or anything."

"Okay," said Harry. He rinsed off his hand before leaning forward and pressing his mouth against her curls. He let his tongue delve and explore, tasting a mixture of water and Ginny. She shivered when he found her clit and moved her hands down to grasp at his shoulders.

The floor of the tub was slippery; Harry grabbed Ginny's arse with both hands to keep from falling over. He sucked gently while he regained his balance and then tickled her nub with the tip of his tongue. Above him, Ginny inhaled sharply. She must have swallowed some water because a second later she started coughing.

"Are you okay?" Harry pulled his head away from her.

"Fine," she panted, grabbing his shoulders more firmly and pulling him back to her. "Don't stop."

So Harry didn't. He swirled his tongue around Ginny's clit, and, once he felt balanced, moved one hand until he could slip a finger inside her.

She cried out and tightened around his finger as Harry started moving it in and out. His knees were getting sore but he didn't care – he'd gotten his tongue and hand working in tandem and Ginny was thrusting against him erratically. She was moaning an intense "uh uh uh" as she writhed against him and if Harry could have done it without slipping, he would have thrust his erection against her leg.

A second later, she climaxed, grabbing the back of Harry's head and holding it firmly in place against her. He could feel tiny spasms around the finger he still had inside and the shuddering jerk she gave as he licked her clit one last time almost knocked him off balance.

Harry pushed back onto his heels and then sat down on the bottom of the bathtub, watching fondly as Ginny came back to herself. She finally opened her eyes and looked down at him, a huge grin stretching across her face as she saw Harry sitting patiently, gently stroking his jutting erection.

Without a word, she lowered herself onto him and he groaned with relief. He wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and planted several kisses across her chest.

"I love you," he said between kisses. "A lot."

"I love you too," Ginny replied. "And I'm glad we're still sneaking around to have sex in crazy places once in a while."

"Dessert," Harry agreed, sucking on one wet breast as Ginny began rocking above him. "We'll have to thank your family for getting too drunk to notice we're gone."

"I doubt we're fooling everyone, " said Ginny. She was pushing into him more insistently and Harry lifted his bum off the bottom of the tub and balanced her on his hips. "I think my mum knew, at least. And probably Hermione."

"Mmm," replied Harry. He didn't really care, to tell the truth. He had everything he wanted now.

"I can't believe no one has needed the loo," remarked Ginny. She was rocking faster and Harry didn't bother trying to answer. He doubted she expected one anyway. She leaned forward to kiss Harry's neck and the shift in position brought Harry almost to the edge.

"Faster," he muttered, squeezing his legs around Ginny's back. She obliged, moving up and down more quickly in time to his thrusts.

"Almost there," he grunted. And then he was, holding her as tightly as possible as he came. He tensed every muscle, feeling Ginny contract around him with another orgasm of her own.

"Oh," she said. "Wow." She leaned back enough to look at Harry, a delighted smile on her face. "Thanks," she said. "I didn't expect another one."

"I think it's the water," said Harry. There was just something extremely sexy about Ginny in the shower. The water glistened off of her skin and her wet hair lay heavy and dark around her face. "You made me want to work harder."

"I'll have to remember that," said Ginny. She grinned up at the spray still raining down on them, as they slowly extricated themselves and stood up. "One nice thing about having sex in the shower," she said, "is that you don't need a cleaning spell afterwards."

"Yeah," said Harry. He pushed aside the shower curtain and peered out. "Uhh, Gin? There aren't any towels."

"Huh?" Ginny looked out too, shivering slightly in the cooler air. "We forgot to grab some from the closet. You'd better Accio them."

"You summon them, " said Harry. "I didn't bring my wand."

"Neither did I," said Ginny slowly. "Uhh, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you set the locking and silencing charms then?"

Harry froze. "I didn't." He smacked his hand against his forehead. "I can't believe we forgot them again."

"I'm sure no one heard anything," said Ginny.

"Yeah, sure," said Harry. "Or else they're all gathered around the other side of this door with a bunch of fireworks that spell out "Harry and Ginny just shagged" in big, multi-colored sparkles.

"Nah, Fred and George wouldn't waste their multi-colored fireworks on us. A light-up sign maybe, but not the fireworks," said Ginny with a teasing grin.

"Great," Harry groaned. He put his ear against the door. "I don't hear anything."

"I'll check," said Ginny. "I can assure you that none of my brothers has any interest in seeing me naked."

"And they do me?" asked Harry faintly.

Ginny cracked open the bathroom door and peered out. "Coast is clear," she said. "Let's run."

Before Harry could answer or even think about it, Ginny had flung open the bathroom door and was racing naked back to her bedroom. Harry had no choice but to follow. Despite the fact that he was mortified at the thought of running through his girlfriend's house without a stitch of clothing on, he had to admit that he rather enjoyed the sight of Ginny's bare arse bouncing in front of him.

They made it back to her room and collapsed, laughing onto her bed. Harry snatched up his wand and set every locking and silencing charm he could think of on the door, then performed a contraception spell on Ginny and, for good measure, himself. Only then did he relax.

"I can't believe we didn't get caught," he sighed contentedly. They were sharing a pillow and strands of Ginny's wet hair were curling against Harry's neck.

"Maybe they left," said Ginny. Just then another burst of fireworks lit up the sky outside Ginny's window.

"Maybe not," she amended.

Harry turned so that he was lying on his side facing Ginny. She shivered and he reached down and grabbed the quilt that was folded at the end of her bed and pulled it over them.

"Better?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she murmured.

Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and kissed her hair. Normally, lying naked in a bed in such close proximity to his also naked girlfriend would have been a reason to begin round two of their lovemaking, but it didn't really feel _necessary_ right now. Cuddling was awfully nice on its own.

"I missed this," said Ginny, guessing Harry's thoughts.

"Me too," said Harry, nuzzling he neck.

He was almost asleep when he felt Ginny stir beside him. "Harry?"

"Yes?" he mumbled.

"We left our muddy clothes in the loo, didn't we?"


	24. Outtake: Returning the Memories

A/N: This outtake takes place before "Burrow Dinner"

Eventually, Harry began lazily kissing the part of Ginny that was closest to his lips, which happened to be her shoulder and, when he turned his head slightly, part of one ear. He wasn't really thinking about technique at that point; quite frankly he was too relaxed to even move on to other parts of Ginny's face. But she sighed contentedly anyway as his mouth met the soft skin underneath her jaw and he even felt her give the slightest shiver when he hit a more sensitive spot. He finally rolled off of her and onto his side, leaving one hand resting on her bare stomach.

"So," he began.

Ginny wiggled a bit closer. "So," she said back. "What do we do now?" Her voice took on a slightly suggestive tone. "Do you want to have _dinner_ again?"

Harry grinned. "Several more times, I think. " He sighed. "But first we should probably put the memories back."

"Yeah," said Ginny, wrinkling her brow. "Do you think it will hurt? I pulled out a lot of memories."

"I don't know," said Harry. "I've never put back more than one or two at a time before."

He sat up, wrapping the sheet around him, and scooted over the Pensieve. "I'll go first."

"Are you going to put them all back at once?" Ginny asked. "And how can you separate mine from yours?"

"It will take all night to put them back one at a time," replied Harry. "And my wand will know which thoughts are mine." He grabbed his wand from the floor and stirred it around the Pensieve. A number of silvery thoughts began attaching themselves to the end of the wood like a Muggle cotton candy machine Harry remembered the from his youth.

"Maybe I'll just put back half of them to start," he said. He raised the wand to his temple and closed his eyes, stiffening a bit in anticipation of the possible pain.

Ginny watched as Harry's thoughts siphoned off his wand and disappeared into his temple. She wasn't sure what she expected him to do as they were replaced – wince maybe – but she was certainly unprepared for him to shiver, eyes squeezed shut, and moan a bit with . . . pleasure?

"Harry?" she asked uncertainly.

"More," he grunted, holding out his wand. His eyes were still shut. "Give me more."

Somewhat confused, Ginny dipped the wand back into the bowl and pulled up more thoughts. "Here," she said, putting the wand back in Harry's hand.

This time, Harry leaned back against the pillows on the bed as he placed his wand to his temple. His body was vibrating lightly and he had a small smile on his face as more of the memories slipped back into his head.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

"Feels wonderful," he mumbled. His other hand had moved down and Ginny could tell he was rubbing himself beneath the sheet. "All the times we . . . all at once. I can _feel_ it. I can feel . . . everything." He moaned again and opened his eyes.

"Are there any more?"

Ginny swirled the Pensieve around. "A few, I think," she said. "Can you really _feel_ them?"

Harry nodded. His eyes were unfocused and dilated – he seemed to be listening to something far away. The motion of his hand under the sheet grew faster and when Ginny scooped out the last of Harry's thoughts from the Penseive and put the wand against his brow, he groaned.

"Yesss," he hissed. "Ginny . . . put yours back. It's . . . ohhh."

His movements were getting erratic and the sight of Harry pleasuring himself caused heat to pool between Ginny's thighs. She was of half a mind to push the sheet aside and climb on top of him right then, but the rest of the thoughts swirling in the Pensieve caught her eye and the desire to experience whatever Harry was overcame her.

"Wait for me," she said, pushing Harry's hand lightly away from his erection. "Where's my wand?"

Harry's hand slowed and he leaned further back into the pillows, a rather dreamy smile on his face. "It's unbelievable, Gin. I remember . . . everything. Like it's happening again." His hand drifted downward again.

"Harry, wait for me," Ginny said again. She leaned over and put both hands on his shoulders. "Hey, why don't you watch while I put my memories back?"

Her suggestion worked. Harry swallowed hard and nodded at her. "K", he said. "But hurry."

Ginny dipped her wand into the Pensieve and swirled it around until a number of thoughts clung to the end. She settled herself back against the pillows next to Harry and touched her wand to her temple.

From the initial jolt than went through her, Ginny thought she was having an orgasm, so intense was the rush of feeling. She closed her eyes and immediately was assaulted with visions of her and Harry coming together in intense snogging, cuddling and lovemaking. When they had watched some of these same scenes in the Penseive, one at a time, it had been like viewing a series of moving pictures that felt familiar - but not - at the same time.

But now Ginny was not only seeing the images, piled up on top of each other, but remembering them at the same time. She could feel Harry's skin, slick with sweat against hers as they rolled together under a tree in the Burrow's orchard; she gasped with pleasure as he slipped one, then two fingers inside her while she stood against the wall in the Harpies' locker room and she groaned as he grabbed her bum while she straddled him in her bedroom at her flat, his fingers working her clit and bringing her to the edge of orgasm.

"Ginny . . ." Harry's voice sounded far away as she watched and felt him kiss her deeply on his bed in his Hogwarts dorm. With a flash of recognition she remembered how they'd both skived off class and hidden in his room for hours, talking about everything and nothing and getting to know each other through words and kisses. The images grew a little fuzzy and she heard Harry's voice again.

"Ginny. " Now he sounded amused.

"Mmmm?" she didn't want it to stop.

"Would you like the rest of your memories now, or are you just going to continue rubbing yourself against my leg?"

Ginny lazily opened her eyes. Harry was laying on his side next to her, a rather suggestive smirk on his face. Looking down, she realized that she had wrapped one leg around Harry's and was thrusting against him. He was hard, his penis pulsing against her belly, and as her brain cleared Ginny could see the desire she felt reflected back in Harry's eyes.

"Uhhh . . ." she said, not really wanting to move. The intensity of the returning memories had eased and now Ginny was thinking about what she wanted to do right here, right now. Harry's nakedness was _extremely_ distracting.

Harry leaned over her, grabbing her wand and dipping it back into the Pensieve. "Let's see if you can get all the rest of them back at once," he said.

Ginny closed her eyes. Almost immediately, she felt Harry's hands on her stomach, stroking up to her breasts and making soft circles around them. Her eyes snapped open.

"How come I . . . I haven't even put them . . ." she began. Then she looked down.

"Oh," she said with a sheepish grin. "I couldn't understand why I was feeling memories again if I hadn't put them back yet."

"You don't mind the real thing at the same time, do you?" asked Harry in a husky voice. He'd begun pushing his erection against her with more force and one hand had now found her nipple and was brushing over it with featherlight touches until it hardened.

"I don't mind," said Ginny. She put the wand to her temple and felt the rush of emotion and pleasure wash over her again. The first thing she experienced was an intense feeling of love and excitement mingled with a little pain and when she closed her eyes again she could see the first time she and Harry had made love. It was sweet and fumbling and warm and Ginny suddenly could remember exactly how _right_ it had been. Even as her minds' eye saw Harry awkwardly positioning himself above her and trying to find the right angle of penetration, her real body knew that Harry was above her again, teasing her by slowly stroking his erection up and down her thighs and torso.

There was so much to experience that Ginny just let it wash over her – the real and the remembered - and didn't try to make sense of it all.

The memories kept coming for several more minutes – physical ones, emotional ones, funny and poignant times she and Harry had spent together. She was almost physically aware of her heart swelling with the return of all the love she hidden away for so long. When she finally opened her eyes, her body was quivering, not only with the memories of times together, but from anticipation.

Harry was sucking gently on her neck, one hand running lightly up and down her hip. By the look on his face Ginny knew it was taking all his effort to wait for her like she'd asked. He was intent on his task but still couldn't stop the small pulsing thrusts his hips kept making against her.

Without a word, Ginny reached down and grabbed Harry. He jerked in surprise and then propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her.

"Are they all in?"

Ginny nodded into Harry's chest. "You know what else I need _in_?" she asked.

Harry chuckled. "It felt unbelievable, didn't it?"

"Ummhmmm," agreed Ginny. She moved her other hand down to circle Harry's penis and began rubbing gently up and down. He groaned and pushed against her.

"I feel . . . different now," she said. "More . . ."

"Complete," Harry finished. "I feel complete now."

"Yeah," said Ginny. "And I didn't completely realize everything that was missing."

"I think it's time to make ourselves more complete, don't you?" asked Harry? His hand left her hip and moved down to cup her curls.

In answer, Ginny grabbed Harry around the waist and rolled him on top of her.

"Like I said," she smirked. "I still need something else put back _in_ me."

Harry grinned back. "I think that can be arranged."


End file.
